Metroid: The One Free Man
by Beth Einspanier
Summary: Samus is hired by a mysterious agent to find someone called the One Free Man, while Gordon Freeman finds himself battling strange alien parasites in one of the new colonies. Can the two put aside their distrust and work towards a common goal? R&R!
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: "Half-Life" is the property of Valve. All related characters, creatures, and ideas belong to them. "Metroid" is the property of Nintendo. All related characters, creatures, and ideas belong to them. This story is the product of my own demented brain.

Author's Note: Okay, here's another one of my "Throw it at the wall and see if it sticks" story ideas. It was sort of inspired to write this after watching "Haloid" and wondering about other possible matchups, so... here goes.

* * *

They say that hyperspace is a scary place. _They_, of course, tend to be seasoned interplanetary pilots with years of experience under their belts. Considering that for a terrifying interval, you and your craft are literally _nowhere_, and you have to rely on instruments only to navigate because looking too hard at the soul-shattering void that is found in hyperspace could easily drive you insane (and this particular pilot had heard stories that would curl your hair), it would seem to be better to remain in realspace all the time, were it not for the fact that it would make interplanetary travel very, very inconvenient.

This pilot vastly preferred keeping the blast shield up during hyperspace jumps rather than succumb to the temptation (and it was always there) to see what lay between _here_ and _there_. The radio was silent during these jumps. It always was. When you were _nowhere_, it was impossible to communicate by any electronic means. So why was the radio starting to crackle now…?

"Ah, Samus Aran… what a pleasure it is to meet you." The voice was male and passably human, but thin and soulless.

The pilot did not reply, still riding out the void of hyperspace.

"There is no need to speak, Miss Aran… and in any case I doubt it is ssssafe to do so at this time anyway. My employers wish to contract your services… to help them gain control of a… little problem. Of course, you will be rewarded generously at your… usual rate."

The voice was making her brain itch. Although it sounded human and appeared to be speaking Galactic Common, there was something very, very wrong about it. The tempo was off, for one. It was trying too hard to _sound_ human.

"Your target is a very important man in his current setting, and he will be well-protected. He is widely known as the One Free Man. We trust you are resourceful enough to… find him wherever he may hide. Decide quickly, Miss Aran… this offer is only for… a limited time."

Slowly, the pilot nodded.

"Excellent. You will be contacted in seven days' time to determine your progress. In anticipation of your agreement, we have taken the liberty of reprogramming the destination… coordinates of your jump drive."

He heart leaped into her mouth at this. That was supposed to be impossible in modern vessels – the danger of a misaimed jump was such that the destination coordinates were locked after hyperspace was entered. She glanced at her instrument panel; he spoke the truth. The coordinates had changed – but to a location she didn't recognize.

"You should be… arriving momentarily," the voice said, and the radio went silent.

A heartbeat later, there was a violent jolt as her ship re-entered realspace, and she opened the blast shield to see where she was. She got a glimpse of a shining blue marble of a planet but before hitting the atmosphere. Moving quickly, the pilot activated the stabilizers and landing controls, as the entire craft shook so violently that she clenched her teeth together to prevent herself biting her tongue. This was not going to be one of her more graceful touchdowns, but with any luck she'd survive it.

* * *

End of Part 1.


	2. First Impressions

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

* * *

Alyx Vance entered the laboratory, and saw what had become a familiar sight over the past few weeks – Gordon Freeman being a scientist rather than a superhero.

"You've been glued to that microscope for the last hour, Gordon," she said, leaning against the doorframe, "You expecting to see anything new?"

Gordon Freeman straightened up with a groan, rubbing the weariness from his eyes before pulling his glasses back down from their previous position on his brow. "I shouldn't," he conceded, "but this is getting so frustrating. There must be something with these new parasites that I'm not seeing." He tried to work the kinks out of his neck and shoulders, common hazards of being a lab monkey. "We've tried every remedy we could think of to stop them. Our anti-Combine methods don't faze them, and the Vortigaunts don't recognize them from Xen, so that's no help."

Alyx came up behind him and started rubbing his shoulders. "You won't be able to find anything if you blind yourself looking. Take a break for a bit. Your eyes will thank you."

Gordon leaned back appreciatively into her talented hands. "And in the meantime, more people get killed by weird vampire jellyfish." He groaned as she attended to a particularly painful knot in his shoulder. "It's like the universe hates us."

"Hey. You can't expect to save the world all by yourself." She hugged him, leaning against his back.

"I've done it twice already," he returned, closing his eyes and savoring her touch.

"And now I think you've earned a nap. Come on. Kleiner can take over. Hey, Dr. Kleiner!"

Isaac Kleiner, Gordon's old mentor from the days when Black Mesa meant job security rather than the apocalypse (and who Gordon thought bore more than a passing resemblance to Dr. Bunsen Honeydew), glanced up from his notes. "Yes, Miss Vance?"

"Gordon and I are going to take a break from xenobiology for a while. Can you pick up where he left off?"

"I'd be happy to. Gordon, you're not getting nearly enough sleep these days. Nor you, Miss Vance, by the looks of it. Why don't the two of you have a nap and keep each other warm?"

There was a moment's silence, during which Gordon stopped dead, his lab coat halfway off and a slightly hunted look on his face, and Alyx tried (but ultimately failed) to suppress her laughter. It was difficult to tell at times whether or not Dr. Kleiner was even aware of his occasional double entendres.

"Wow, that was subtle," Alyx remarked once they'd escaped into the hallway.

"I just wish he'd get off that 'help repopulate humanity' thing," Gordon sighed, "I know it's important, but he doesn't need to remind _us_ at every opportunity. It's not like we can do it by ourselves or anything."

"Nothing to be wasted by trying," she said, putting an arm around his waist and silencing his red-faced sputtering with a brief kiss. "Oh, hush. You're cute when you blush."

Gordon considered with a shy grin that she probably thought he looked downright adorable right now if that was the case, but then he looked grim again. "If we can't get these new parasites under control, human civilization might be in trouble again, just when we almost have things rebuilt."

Alyx leaned against him reassuringly, and he put an arm around her. "We'll figure something out," she said, "But first, that nap sounds like a good—"

"A Traveler comes," said a voice behind them, a harsh basso rumble beyond the capacity of most humans. They turned to see a Vortigaunt, one of the friendly alien species from Xen, standing hunched behind them, watching them with the central-most of his seven red eyes. They were the closest thing to "little green men" that anyone had seen since this whole thing started, except that they were easily six feet tall.

"A traveler from where?" Gordon asked, running down his mental list of human colonies in this part of the country.

The Vortigaunt unfolded a thin arm and pointed upwards. Presently, they heard the sound of a large projectile screaming down from the stratosphere to impact outside the building with a muffled THWOOM, causing Gordon to pull Alyx protectively close. The building shook as the projectile skidded to a halt, and then there was silence. The Vortigaunt seemed utterly unrattled by the event and, his message sent, turned and headed for the main door.

Gordon and Alyx exchanged a glance and hurried to follow him.

Outside, they saw the slightly abused wreckage of a sleek, gold-colored vessel half-buried in the turf, roughly wedge shaped but with organic curves not seen in any Earth craft. Smoke and dust swirled around the craft.

"Holy _shit_!" Barney Calhoun said nearby. Gordon glanced over to see the former security guard gesturing helplessly at the wrecked craft, his mouth opening and closing as he searched for the right summary for the scene. "It's… it's… it's a goddamn UFO!" he finally decided. Once upon a time, he might have been excited about a close encounter of the third kind, but nowadays this was tempered with the dread of yet another wave of invasion.

Gordon ventured towards the wreckage, shielding his eyes with his hands to get a better look. Through the windscreen, he saw the silhouette of a passenger within.

"There's somebody in there!" he called to the others.

"Human?" Alyx asked.

"Looks like it. Maybe. He might still be alive. Come on!" He jogged forward, followed by Alyx and Barney, reaching the craft just as the Vortigaunts pried open a hatch on the side of the vessel.

"The Traveler lives," one of them told him, "But the Free Man must hurry if the Traveler is to survive."

He nodded at the Vortigaunt before climbing into the belly of the craft. Inside the ship, he found himself surrounded by panels of blinking lights and indicators that he guessed he wouldn't be able to figure out in ten years. Further forward, he found the lone command chair in front of a similarly high-tech control panel, occupied by a single humanoid figure in gleaming red and gold armor. The right arm gave way at the elbow to what appeared to be the barrel of a gun of some sort, and the armor was accented with glowing green designs along the arms, legs, and joints. The pilot was still firmly strapped to the command chair, possibly the only thing that prevented him from pitching forward into the controls on impact.

"Hey, wait up!" Alyx called behind him.

"I'm up here!" he called back, "I think I found the pilot. Give me a hand – I can't tell how badly he's injured."

As he investigated the safety straps for the catch release, he heard two people climbing into the vessel behind him. He poked a likely-looking fastener, and the straps unfurled from around the pilot and vanished into the command chair. Gordon caught the limp body as it flopped forward, and then pulled it out of the command chair, handing it off to Alyx and Barney.

"Looks like we found Iron Man or something," Barney said.

"Let's get him to the infirmary," Gordon said, "We might be able to help him."

They carried the limp, armored form out of the crashed vessel and through the sparse crowd of civilians that had gathered, drawn by the sound and sight of the crash. It was natural to be curious, after all, even in the face of potential danger. It was only human nature. As they passed, Gordon could hear murmured questions.

"Who is that?"

"Is it human?"

"Is it Combine?"

"What does it want?"

Barney shoved open the doors ahead of them as they made their way to the infirmary.

"We got a crash victim!" he bellowed, and the medical team (who had once been doctors, nurses, and military medics in a previous life) leaped into action, helping them place the stranger on an empty bed. One of the medics bent close to place his ear against the pilot's chest for a few seconds, listening.

"I got a heartbeat!" he announced, "And he's breathing, but it sounds labored. Let's get this armor off him!"

It was then that things started getting complicated. The pilot's armor seemed to have no visible seams that would allow them to reach vital organs or even perform an examination for injuries. Gordon felt around the bottom edge of the helmet for some sort of catch. When he found the outline of a promising button, he pushed it, and the twin breathing tubes connecting the front of the helmet to the upper chest of the armor popped free of the helmet with a hiss of air. Gordon worked the helmet loose and pulled it off, to reveal…

"It looks human," Gordon announced to the others present, "And… female."

There was no mistaking the delicate contours of the woman's face. She was in her late twenties or early thirties, by Gordon's estimation, and might have once been pretty before a hard life had introduced cynical lines around her eyes and mouth; now, she looked like a soldier. Her blonde hair was long, and plaited in a purely functional braid. She had a fresh gash in her scalp, which oozed red blood into her hair.

Gordon moved aside as a nurse set about cleaning the scalp wound. The gauntlet on the pilot's left hand had some sort of jewel set into the back of it. He bent for a closer look and saw a fine seam around it. On a hunch, he pushed on the jewel.

The armor flashed white and started folding and furling away in a manner not entirely consistent with three-dimensional geometry, revealing a light blue, skintight catsuit underneath. Even the cannon on her right arm slid back and away into some hyper-dimensional pocket, revealing a perfectly normal arm underneath. After about thirty seconds, the whole contraption had been tucked away into the jewel on her right glove.

"Now that's cool," Gordon said with a small grin.

"Something like that would make it easier for you to get that Hazard suit of yours on," one of the medics said.

"Tell me about it," Gordon said, "Let's get those gloves to the engineers and see if they can find a way to duplicate the technology." One of the medics tugged off the pilot's gloves and handed them off to a nurse, who headed off to deliver them. "Let's see what else we've got here."

He stepped aside as the medics moved in, locating a zipper on the front of the suit and opening the front of it, revealing a thin, close-fitting tank top beneath, covering her full breasts. Gordon turned to the supplies laid out on a nearby table, handing them over as needed.

"Looks like we've got a couple broken ribs here."

"Sprained wrist…"

"Dislocated shoulder…"

Gordon noticed that Barney's response time was starting to slow, and he glanced over at his old friend. Barney was staring blankly at the pilot.

"Barney?" Gordon prodded him, "Don't fall asleep on me, man."

Barney snapped back to reality, blinking a few times. He handed over a medkit, which Gordon passed on to the working medics. "Sorry. It's just…" He sighed. "It's nothing."

"What kind of 'nothing'?" Gordon asked.

Barney kept his eyes on the length of bandages in his hands. "She looks a lot like Lauren, is all."

Lauren McKenzie, Barney's longtime girlfriend, had been the love of the man's life since he was in high school. He'd been planning to ask her to marry him one weekend, but as it turned out, his plans would be derailed by the Black Mesa Incident. Then came the Seven Hours' War, and marriage had to be put on the back burner in favor of sheer survival. The last Barney had seen of Lauren was ten years ago, when they had been split up and sent to separate work camps. He never saw her again.

Gordon knew that Barney was still haunted by her disappearance, and still hoped every day that he would see her again. Gordon never had the heart to offer the (entirely plausible) theory that Lauren might be dead. It wouldn't help, in any case. Barney would mourn at his own pace.

There was a bony pop as the pilot's shoulder was relocated, a slightly gut-wrenching noise even for more experienced Resistance soldiers. She stirred, making a feeble noise. Gordon glanced over to find Barney staring again, with that haunted look in his eyes.

"Barney, take a break," Gordon said.

Barney snapped back to reality. "What? But…"

"Take a break. You look like you need one. We'll talk about it later. Alyx, take over for him."

Barney frowned, but set down the bandages he'd been readying and left the infirmary. Alyx took his place at Gordon's side.

"He looks a bit spooked," she said, once Barney was out of earshot. She handed Gordon some medical tape, and he passed it across to the working medics. The pilot had been partially stripped of the blue catsuit to allow access to her injuries, and she was now wrapped with bandages across several joints and around her head, and she had a medkit attached to her arm. As Gordon watched, the ampoule of green fluid, specially formulated to accelerate healing, slowly drained. At the other arm, a medic was taking a blood sample.

"Bad memories," Gordon said, "of Lauren."

Alyx winced. "He wants her to be alive so much."

Gordon nodded somberly. "I know. She seemed like a sweet girl. She was perfect for him." He glanced at the pilot. "I don't see much resemblance, though."

"Give him time," Alyx said.

The rest of the time was spent in thoughtful silence as the woman's ribs were taped and the rest of her injuries treated and bandaged.

"Okay, I think this is the best we'll be able to do for her," one of the medics said, detaching the spent medkit, "Now all that's left to do is wait for her to wake up." He pulled her catsuit back up to cover her, lay her down, and pulled a blanket over her. "Get that blood sample to the lab. Make sure she isn't infected with anything."

The medic with the vial of blood nodded and headed off.

"Alright," said Gordon, "Thanks everyone. You did great." He sighed. "Now we wait." He glanced at the fallen pilot, considering that someone should watch over her in case she was disoriented when she woke up. It probably wouldn't be him – he was just too worn out. He wasn't going to risk her waking up with him asleep in her cleavage. He considered additionally that he needed to check on Barney.

He decided to combine the two.

Barney glanced up as Gordon emerged from the infirmary.

"Is she okay?" Barney asked.

"She's all patched up," Gordon replied, "Are _you_ okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine. It was… it was like seeing a ghost, that's all. I'm okay."

"I'm serious, man. We might be in the middle of an alien plague here. I can't have you cracking up on me. Not now."

"I _said_ I'm fine. I've been doing this longer than you have, Gordon. I can handle this."

"If you're sure."

"I'm sure. You, on the other hand, look like you're about to pass out."

"Yeah. Look, I need someone to watch over the pilot while I take a break."

"Hey, I can do that," Barney volunteered eagerly.

"All right. I'm going to get some shuteye. Sit in there with her, and watch over her. If anything changes, give me a yell. If anything gets worse, take care of it."

"Got it." Barney headed back to the infirmary.

Gordon rubbed his eyes. He was going to enjoy this nap.

* * *

Samus Aran woke slowly to a symphony of aches and pains. She took mental stock of herself, and considered it a small miracle that she was (relatively) okay. She became aware that she had been bandaged up, under her flight suit. Someone had found her, removed her armor, and performed first aid on her. Interesting. And her gloves were gone. _Shit_. She couldn't activate her Power Suit without them. Was she in a safe place, though? She might have been taken prisoner by allies of the One Free Man – and if so, she might be in trouble.

She became aware that someone was talking to her.

"… and when the train crashed… well, I thought I was about dead. Somebody found me and dragged me out, though. I'm okay now, I guess."

She opened her eyes just a fraction, peering in the direction of the speaker. He was… decent-looking, she supposed, though he had that "stared-down-the-barrel-of-hell" look she'd seen on so many soldiers and bounty hunters, so that even his cheerful tone seemed a bit off. He had dark hair, starting to go gray at the temples, and he needed to shave. She saw him starting to turn, and immediately shut her eyes again.

"I bet you feel the same way, surviving that crash." She felt him clasp her hand, with a level of familiarity that galled her. "You should thank Gordon, really. He was the first one in. Always the hero. Even after everything that's happened since he came back, he's the first into any sticky spot. You look like you've been through a lot, too." She felt him brush his fingertips over a scar on her cheek. She fought down her initial outrage and continued to lie still. She peeked at him again and saw that he'd glanced pensively away. "Of course, with these parasites, this might not have been the best time to show up," he continued.

Parasites? What kind of…

She noticed something in the corner, past the man, a tall glass tube filled with formaldehyde and containing a specimen. Her eyes widened as she recognized the thing floating within, no longer as mindful of the man guarding her. She could hardly mistake the gelatinous creature, about twice the size of a man's head, translucent green, with four red quadripartite nuclei suspended within. In its underside it had two pairs of curved fangs in its underside, the inner pair smaller than the outer pair. It was a Metroid larva! They were studying Metroids – she had to get out of here!

She exploded into action, her hand striking like a rattlesnake to punch the man in the face as he turned.

*****

Gordon was sound asleep, with Alyx nestled in his arms. Since they were both fully clothed, he considered this gesture to be chaste enough and quite practical for keeping warm and conserving sleeping space, despite the occasional ribbing he got. However, regardless of how comfortable he was (very, given the context), he woke instantly when he heard the commotion in the infirmary down the hall, sitting up alertly to listen.

He heard a heavy impact, followed by a familiar male voice swearing.

Oh God. Barney!

He snatched up his glasses from the bedside table and leaped from the bed, grabbing a handgun from under the mattress, and was out the door before Alyx had awakened enough to ask what was wrong. He paused just long enough to put his glasses on, before sprinting down the hall to the infirmary and skidding to a halt in the doorway to see what was happening.

Barney was grappling with the previously injured pilot, having wrapped his arms around her shoulders and waist from behind to try to restrain her. His nose was bleeding and looked like it might be broken. She brought one heel sharply back between his legs, and Barney let out a strangled cough, letting her go. She broke for the door, but collided with Gordon, who grabbed her. She struggled to get away, and Gordon made sure to hold her slightly to one side so she couldn't kick him like she had Barney.

"Easy, easy, easy," he said, trying to calm her, "Nobody here wants to hurt you. Just… calm down. Calm down. Calm down. Shh." As her struggles eased, he glanced past her at Barney, who was doubled over and leaning heavily against the bed. "Barney, you okay?"

Barney glanced up, red-faced. "I will be in a minute," he managed, sounding strained, "God DAMN she's got hard heels." He finally managed to straighten up, clearing his throat, and regarded Gordon. "What is it about you that just calms people down, huh?"

Gordon shrugged. "I guess I just look harmless."

"Bullshit, Gordon – you just charged into an infirmary with a handgun."

"Because a brawl broke out in here. What did you expect me to do, huh?" He sighed. "First things first, though."

Gordon carefully released the pilot, holding her at arm's length. She scowled and refused to look at him. "Good to see you up and about," he said, keeping his tone light, "You're definitely in better condition than that ship you arrived in. What's your name?" She frowned and didn't answer. "My name's Gordon. The guy over there with the nosebleed is Barney." He stopped and winced as Barney set his broken nose with a loud _crack_. "What's your name?" He paused, waiting. No answer. She just looked up at him, as though gauging his trustworthiness. Gordon made a face, starting to feel awkward. Maybe she didn't speak English. His knowledge of Russian was a bit dodgy – he could read it fine, but speaking it was another matter entirely.

Finally, she spoke. "Samus."

Gordon brightened, relieved at the progress. "Samus – that's your name? Samus?"

She nodded, still watching him carefully. "Samus Aran." She scowled at Barney. "And tell your friend Barney that the next finger he lays on me gets broken."

Gordon and Barney exchanged a glance.

"She speaks English," Gordon observed, "That'll make things easier."

"Unless she decides to try to kill me again," Barney returned, gingerly investigating his swelling nose.

Gordon sighed. So much for getting some rest.

* * *

End of Part 2.


	3. Observations

Disclaimers: See Part 1.

* * *

Samus wasn't sure what to make of the people she had just met. Gordon was tall and on the wiry side, with dark hair, heavy-rimmed glasses and a goatee; he was certainly the more logic-minded of the two men. There was something about him—something well-grounded, she supposed—that seemed comforting, trustworthy… and overall pretty quiet, after their initial introductions, allowing his friend to steer the course of questioning. Meanwhile Gordon put on the gun's safety and tucked the weapon into the rear waistband of his pants to get it out of the way, before performing what appeared to be a physical checkup on Samus. She saw that the T-shirt he wore was adorned with the words "Miskatonic University" and what appeared to be an academic seal involving a stylized cephalopod, hand-drawn in green and black ink. Then, of course, there was Barney – not quite as tall as Gordon and about twenty years his senior, Barney appeared to be the type who constantly needed to do something (like talking to an unconscious stranger), and he paced as he talked to her. His shirt was well-worn, but had a uniform-like atmosphere to it, black with the words "Civil Protection" stenciled in faded white letters on the back. To judge by the pattern of sun-fading in the shirt, it seemed to be most often paired with a vest of some sort.

"Where are you from?" Barney asked.

"Zebes," she said quietly, "in the FS-176 System." She held still as Gordon unwrapped the bandages from her head. He examined a wound in her scalp and nodded, making a note on a clipboard.

"Is that a city?"

Samus shook her head. "It's… it was… a planet."

"Jesus," Barney said, "More aliens."

Gordon took her pulse. "She seems human enough, within the expected variations," he said, making another note.

"I _am_ human," Samus said, "Where am I now? I didn't recognize the coordinates from my charts." She grunted in discomfort as Gordon probed her bruised side.

"Ribs still a bit tender," Gordon murmured, making a note, "But the breaks should be nearly healed."

"On a small scale," Barney said, "This town is called Salvation. Sort of a… symbolic… thing, I guess. On a bigger scale, this planet is called Earth."

"Earth!" She recognized the name, from old history files. "You mean… the human homeworld?"

Gordon took her arm and manipulated her bandaged shoulder. "Any pain?"

"A bit. Not much." She watched Gordon make another note.

"Earth was the only inhabited planet we knew of," Barney said, "Until… relatively recently."

Samus frowned. "And I thought it was just a legend." She glanced up as a woman entered the infirmary, tall, lean and copper-skinned, with a mass of curly hair, chocolate brown except for a shock of red at her brow. She paused, looking around at the people already gathered in the infirmary.

"Everything okay in here?" she asked Gordon, "You ran out of there like the room was on fire."

"Yeah," Barney summarized, "The space girl woke up and broke my nose, is all. Alyx, this is Samus. Samus, this is Alyx, Gordon's girlfriend."

Samus glanced over at Gordon, to find that the man had apparently elected to hide behind the clipboard rather than confirm or deny this allegation.

"Barney, you're an ass," he said quietly.

"Don't worry about it, Gordon," Alyx said with a smile, giving Gordon's shoulder a squeeze and ruffling his hair fondly, "What can I say? I like smart men."

"If he's so smart," Samus returned, "why is he keeping a Metroid in a jar?"

The other three looked at her blankly. Gordon lowered the clipboard, his embarrassment driven away by curiosity. "What's a Metroid?" he asked, though he glanced at the specimen jar.

"_That_ is a Metroid," Samus said, pointing toward the preserved specimen, "and if you're going to try breeding more as a weapon, forget it. A lot of colonies have been destroyed that way."

"Why the hell would we do that?" Barney asked incredulously, "Those damn parasites are killing people. I don't know how many people we've gotten to the infirmary too late. It sucks."

"Gordon's been trying to figure out a way to get rid of them," Alyx added, "Guns don't seem to work well enough, not anything we have available, anyway. And they keep adapting to chemical remedies. If we had a better-stocked lab to work with, maybe we'd have a chance, but right now we're low on options – and manpower."

"In all likelihood, that Metroid represents only the beginning of your problem," Samus said, remembering her own encounters with the creatures, "If you don't figure out how to stop them soon, things are going to get a lot worse. First off, they're not parasites, they're predators. Smart ones. They reproduce faster than any other vermin I've encountered, given sufficient resources. This colony is going to be a feast for them. And that one in the jar? It's just a baby."

"You mean those things get bigger?" Barney asked, clearly imagining a possible result of this and not liking the mental picture.

"Much bigger. And a lot meaner. If you think this psychotic little bubble of protoplasm is bad, wait till you see the Alphas. Then the Gammas. Then the Zetas and Omegas. And if this hive has been around long enough, there'll be a Queen at the center of it. By the time you get to that stage, though, it's goodbye humanity."

"Obviously, you know more about these… Metroids than we do," Gordon said, "which means in all likelihood you've survived an outbreak of these things." He spread his hands in a gesture of supplication. "Can you help us get rid of them?"

She smirked. "Sorry, Gordon, I'm a bounty hunter. I don't deal in favors. I don't offer them, and I don't like owing them. I just want to get my gloves back and find—"

"Dr. Freeman!" a voice called from out in the hall.

"Yeah?" Gordon called back, and a lab-coated researcher trotted into the doorway.

"We found something interesting in the blood sample we got from…" He stopped, noticing Samus. "Hello."

"Hello," Samus replied warily, and offered nothing more.

"You should come see this," the scientist said to Gordon, and the two left.

"Freeman, huh?" she mused, starting to make a connection, and then turned to Barney, who was getting his nose splinted by Alyx. "I have a question for you, Barney."

"Yeah? Ow!"

"Hold still!" Alyx scolded him, "If we don't take care of this now the swelling will only get worse."

Samus stood up and headed over to the two. "His name is Gordon Freeman, right?"

"Yeah," Barney confirmed, "_The_ big damn hero of the Resistance. Heard of him?"

"No," Samus said, "but I have heard of someone called the One Free Man. Are they related?"

"They're one and the same," Barney said, as Alyx taped the splint in place, "I mean, the Resistance was in place before he got here, but you should see how well things got rolling afterwards. He almost singlehandedly trashed the whole Combine infrastructure. Well… him and this charming lady here." He inclined his head toward Alyx, who smiled and handed him an ice pack. "I don't think we would have gotten nearly this far without him, to be honest."

"Hm. I expected someone… different. Scarier, maybe."

"Hey, if you want scary, ask him about the thing he did with the Zero Point Energy Field Manipulator, a urinal, and a small squad of Combine officers." He gingerly applied the ice to his nose. "Thanks Alyx. Hey Samus, you hungry?"

Samus was about to answer in the negative when her stomach growled. "… A little," she conceded, glancing down at her stomach and registering for the first time that her flight suit was still unzipped. She tugged the zipper closed.

"Well, I'm headed to the cantina for a bite to eat. After lunch, I can show you around a bit while you're waiting for Gordon to get back from Nerdland." He chuckled, shaking his head. "Whatever they found, he'll be looking at it for hours, I bet."

Samus considered his request. She had broken his nose and he was still determined to be nice to her, which puzzled her a bit. She'd expected more caution after a meeting like that. On the other hand, she'd found her target sooner than she thought. All she had to do now was get her Power Suit back and she would be able to take him down. Despite Barney's description, Gordon seemed too mild-mannered to be truly dangerous. She would likely be able to capture him alive. However, it was a good idea during any mission to learn the terrain – and now Barney had volunteered to be her tour guide. It was too good an opportunity to pass up.

"Sure," she said with a smile, "Lunch sounds great."

Barney grinned around the ice pack. "Great – follow me."

****

Gordon entered the lab and, out of habit, shrugged into a lab coat. He noticed the two microscopes were set up, each with a slide already in place.

"All right," he said, "What do we have?"

The scientist who'd brought him back (whose name, Gordon recalled, was Gabriel… something) motioned to the first microscope. "The blood sample from our visitor. Have a look."

Gordon perched his glasses on his brow and peered into the eyepieces. After a few seconds, he frowned. "That's… odd. Do you have the other tissue slides handy?"

Gabriel nodded. "I've set it up on the other microscope so you can compare."

Gordon moved to the second microscope and peered at the Metroid slide. "… Huh. Her blood contains similar cells to what we found in the creatures' protoplasm."

"I thought there might have been some cross-contamination, so I ran some additional tests." Gabriel typed rapidly on a nearby keyboard and brought up the results. "I got these back just a few minutes ago."

Gordon stepped back and pulled his glasses back down, scanning the image on the giant screen that overlooked the lab. It looked suspiciously thorough. "How long was I asleep?"

"Dr. Kleiner said Alyx dragged you out of here about… two or three hours ago."

Gordon grunted. It felt like he'd hardly slept at all. "Okay, what am I looking at?"

"You said she just arrived here, right?"

Gordon nodded. "Her name is Samus. She says she's from another planet." He shrugged, not wishing to adhere to a particular theory about her origins just yet.

Gabriel picked up a laser pointer and started indicating items of interest. "Well, you can see here that her blood type doesn't correspond to anything I've found in humans. The serology was especially interesting – instead of causing an immune response to destroy foreign blood group antigens, the blood will attempt to adapt to them."

"Absorption?" Gordon asked.

"Assimilation. I suspect that those cells that you saw in her blood and the parasite blood are native to the parasites."

"Metroids," Gordon said quietly.

"I'm sorry?"

"They're called Metroids. And Samus said they're predators – voracious ones. She seems to know a fair amount about them."

"Oh, excellent! Perhaps I can ask her some questions about them."

"Later. I'll let her know you want to pick her brain. What else have you found out about these Metroid cells?"

"Well, they seem well-suited to detecting and absorbing life energy."

Gordon frowned. "I thought those things fed on bodily fluids. The deceased victims we have in the morgue are desiccated. Almost mummified."

"The fluids might sustain them, but they seem to prefer life energy. You saw the tests we ran. The Metroids universally ignored carrion in favor of living prey."

Gordon grunted. He liked the idea of such a predator less and less with every passing minute.

"I also found some genetic and chromosomal anomalies in her blood," Gabriel continued, "But those will take more time to figure out. But I did find something that might interest you."

"What's that?"

"Samus' blood contains antibodies that seem to actively attack and neutralize Metroid venom, possibly making her immune, or at least resistant." Gordon's ears pricked up. "I'll need to run more tests… but it might be possible to manufacture a vaccine against these things."

"Great. How long will it take?"

"I'll need a fresh sample of blood to work with," Gabriel said, "But maybe three to four days, at best."

"All right. I'll have her come in so you can take another sample. Anything else?"

"Not yet. The Vortigaunts are working with those gloves of hers. Bob says they might have a new prototype by the day after tomorrow." Bob was one of the Vortigaunts. Nobody knew whether Bob was a coincidentally humanlike name that he was given at birth (in which case Barney had theorized that it would probably be spelled B#aau!bh) or if he chose the name himself when he came to Earth to help against the Combine. Gordon had never asked, and Bob had never argued with the conventional spelling.

"Okay. That would make it… Mark 6?"

Gabriel nodded. "And it would make it a lot easier for you to get in and out of it."

"Awesome. Keep me posted, would you?"

"Absolutely, Dr. Freeman. And, if I may make a suggestion?"

"Yeah?"

"Get some sleep, sir. You look like shit."

Gordon chuckled tiredly. "Believe me, I'm trying. And don't call me _sir_. It makes me feel like I'm in the Army."

As he left the infirmary, Gordon's stomach growled. Great – another bodily function demanding attention.

****

"He's not much for small talk, is he?" Samus asked.

"Who, Gordon?" Barney asked.

Samus nodded. The two of them were sharing a simple lunch of vegetables and protein slurry. Barney said that he would have killed for a good steak, but crops were easier to recover than livestock. A couple people were starting to keep goats, though, which were good for milk and wool.

Barney laughed. "You know, that's the first thing most people notice about him. He's quiet. Mainly with new people. He likes to check things out first, you know, gather data before forming his theories. Hell, for the first day or so after Alyx met him she was convinced he was mute." He leaned conspiratorially close with a smirk. "Turns out he was just rendered speechless by her beauty." He chuckled and sat back. "Most of the time he just says as much as he needs to, and that's it. But get him on one of his favorite subjects, like science or _Star Wars_, and he'll talk your ear off."

"…_Star Wars_?" Samus asked, feeling a bit lost.

"Man, you really are from another planet, aren't you?" This question annoyed her a bit, but she found it hard to stay mad at Barney. He was just the sort of friendly person that others were instinctively drawn to.

"I don't see that it's a big deal. From what I understand you've had plenty of encounters with extraplanetary beings. I'd think you'd be used to it by now."

"Well, _yeah_, but all things considered I'd say you're the cutest we've had in a while."

A carrot fell off the end of her fork. "Are you flirting with me?" she asked.

Barney laughed, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah, I know… look at me, almost fifty years old and I'm acting like a goddamn teenager. You just remind me of…" He trailed off, remembering, his smile slipping by a few degrees. "You remind me of someone I used to know, is all. Haven't seen her in, like, ten years." He glanced away, his smile vanishing completely. "I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her, but now… I don't know."

"What happened to her?" Samus asked, surprised by his sudden change in mood.

"I don't know. She vanished, during the Combine occupation. I keep hoping I'll find her."

He was getting that haunted look in his eyes again. Samus decided to move on. "Tell me more about Gordon. How did you meet him?"

Barney's expression cleared slightly. "We used to work together, at Black Mesa. God, that was a long time ago, like twenty years ago. More than that."

Samus frowned. "He doesn't look that old. Younger than you, certainly."

"Yeah, I know. Apparently he got shoved in some cosmic sock drawer after the Black Mesa incident. He was just _gone_ for twenty years, and when he came back he hadn't aged a day. I still haven't managed to pry that story out of him. But he missed most of the excitement – Black Mesa getting nuked, the Seven Hours' War, the beginning of the Combine occupation. Then, BAM – he gets dropped right back in the middle of things after the dust clears. If I hadn't been right there when the facial scanner blipped on him, I don't know what would have happened. I mean, hell, he was already a legend by then. He managed to stop the resonance cascade from sucking the southwestern United States into another dimension, so that's something."

"And since his return?"

"Well, you wouldn't know it to talk to him, but he managed to pull the Resistance back to its feet. Things were getting tough, you know? The Combine was hunting us down, trying to drill into our hidey-holes and drag us out. People were getting real scared and starting to wonder if it wouldn't be better just to give up. You know, just let the Combine have their way. But then they heard that the One Free Man was back, and… holy_ shit_, you should have _seen_ them. People who were thinking of eating their gun got their second wind and really dug in against the Combine. I mean, I'm one of the generals of the Resistance, and it was getting hard for me to inspire half the confidence that he did just being there."

"Sounds like you're a bit jealous," Samus pointed out.

"Nah," Barney said with a shrug, "I'm just happy to be alive, most days. Gordon's a good guy to have on your team."

Samus caught movement out of the corner of her eye and saw Gordon, still clad in a lab coat, walking over to the fruit bins in the middle of the cantina.

"Hey, speak of the devil!" Barney said, raising his hand to hail the scientist. "Hey, Gor—!"

An alarm blared. The diners in the cantina exploded into motion, filing towards a door in a rehearsed fashion; there was no panic, only focused urgency. Barney jumped to his feet as well. Samus saw Gordon hesitate, glancing at the fruit bins, and snatch an apple from the nearest one before sprinting away.

"Shit," Barney said, "Proximity alarm. Southeast, sounds like. _Shit_." He turned to Samus. "Hey – you wanna see some action? Come with me." He dashed away, through the same door Gordon had exited through. Samus followed, wishing she had her Power Suit back but curious to see if the One Free Man was all he was cracked up to be.

* * *

End of Part 3.


	4. Endurance

Author's note: fixed a few minor temporal descriptions.

Disclaimers: See Part 1.

* * *

There was a fine art to eating on the run, Gordon had discovered during his internship at Black Mesa. It required food that could be eaten one-handed and wasn't too messy. An apple might not be the best such example, but it was better than, say, an orange. As such, he had managed to devour half the apple and strip off his lab coat (hanging it up as he passed a coathook) by the time he got to the storage pod containing his Hazard Suit.

"You might want to set that down while we get the Hazard suit on you," Dr. Kleiner suggested, as he and an assistant started not so much helping Gordon into the powered armor as assembling it around him over his clothing, starting at the boots and working their way up.

"Only if it gets in the way," Gordon said, "I'm starving."

"I trust you and Miss Vance enjoyed your nap?"

Gordon glanced over at the older scientist and saw nothing but innocent inquiry in his face. Clearly he had never heard of innuendo. "Yes, we enjoyed our nap," Gordon said tiredly. He took another five rapid bites of apple.

"Arms out, please," Kleiner directed. Gordon sighed and put his arms out. He was going to be glad when Bob finished with the prototype Mark 6. Hopefully it could be retrofitted onto the Mark 5; he'd just managed to break it in. The torso armor was lowered over his head and buckled into place. The armored sleeves were buckled on, and Kleiner took the mostly-clean apple core from Gordon as the gauntlets followed. Gordon flexed the joints to settle the suit into place before taking back the last precious bites of his snack and finishing the apple.

"Compost this for me, please," he told Dr. Kleiner, lobbing the apple core to the older scientist as he grabbed up his helmet and headed off to the briefing room.

"Hey, look who decided to join us!" Barney greeted him as he took his seat. Gordon rolled his eyes; Barney knew as well as anyone how long it took him to get into the Hazard suit. He nodded to acknowledge the familiar faces at the table, which included three Vortigaunts as well as humans, and took a seat next to Alyx, who gave him a one-armed hug. Gordon was surprised, however, to find that Samus, Barney's "space girl", was also joining the briefing. The usual headcount appeared unchanged, which meant that someone was missing…

"Where's Kincaid?" he asked.

"He was on the perimeter. He barely got off the breach warning." Barney crossed himself solemnly. "We'll find his body and bring it back with us."

There was a moment of respectful silence.

"Okay, first things first," Barney said finally, "Everyone, this is Samus Aran."

Samus waved half-heartedly at the group. "Hello."

"She knows about these new things we're fighting – they're called Metroids, and by all accounts, they're bad mojo." He recapped what they had learned so far about the Metroids from Samus, concluding with, "So if you can help it, don't let them get hold of you. Anything to add, Gordon?"

"The researchers think they might be able to make a vaccine to protect people from them, hopefully," Gordon said, "Miss Aran, they'll need a fresh blood sample from you once we get back from this, so they can get started." He noticed her frown of confusion. "Is there a problem with that?"

"No," she said, "The sample isn't a problem, but… are you part of this defense team? Where I come from, scientists tend to stay away from the front lines."

"What, you mean hide out in a lab somewhere and let other people fight for them?"

She nodded.

Gordon snorted. "That's never really worked out well for me." In most cases he'd found that trouble actively sought him out. And, of course, if the entire complex was overrun by bad guys like it was in Black Mesa…

"Besides," Barney put in, "He's a key member of the combat force. Wild horses couldn't keep him away… though Alyx has tried."

"So instead I go with him," Alyx put in with a smile. Gordon had never found it worthwhile to try to stop her, as she was strong-willed (a trait she got from her father) and a good fighter.

"All right, people, here's the plan," Barney announced, "Alpha Squad: Gordon, Alyx, Marco, and Galia, you take Dog and head in first. Get a good look at what we're up against and clear a path for the rest of us. Bravo Squad: Salvatore, Bronwyn, Anton, Parsifal, and Jun, follow behind Alpha when you get the all clear or if they need backup. Charlie Squad: Mason, Niko, Malachi, Samus, and me. We'll bring up the rear and keep any stragglers off your ass.

"Right now we have three basic goals. First, we look for civilian survivors and get them to safety. That's your main priority – if you find anyone injured, get them the hell out of there. You know where the medic stations are. Second, we clear out any hostiles that have gotten in. This is our goddamn colony, and there's no way they're chasing us out. Third, we find where the breach is and seal it. We don't want to give them any more opportunities than they're already taking. Any objections?"

"No sir!" the assembled defenders chorused.

"Great. Now let's get armed, get out there and take that district back!"

The group dissembled.

It had always impressed Gordon how easily Barney Calhoun could switch from friendly goofball to competent commander almost instantly when the need arose. Clearly, twenty years of fighting for the sake of the planet (or at least the bit of it that directly concerned him) had given the former security guard the maturity needed to direct operations like this. Having people depend on you for survival did that to a man.

Samus was still a wild card, though. As he watched the two of them in the armory, it appeared that she had warmed to Barney slightly since her initial violent meeting with them. Barney was just like that – people trusted him instantly, rather than feared him, making him more effective than any bellowing drill instructor the Marines ever had. But Samus… despite her slight build, she moved like a cat, and carried herself like a fighter. She was alert, seeming to notice everything around her at once, even as Barney gave her a guided tour of projectile weaponry. He had little doubt that she could be deadly to anyone who got on the wrong end of her. Currently she stood by Barney at the far end of the armory, listening attentively as he pointed out the different weapons available to her, with her hands clasped behind her back like a soldier at ease. He wondered if she planned on putting on some armor, or if she planned on fighting hostile life-sucking aliens in that catsuit alone.

Gordon, meanwhile, easily settled on his own favored weapon for this excursion, comforted by the familiar weight of his Gravity Gun. He noticed some writing on the barrel, and bent for a closer look. Some wit had dubbed the device "Fluffy", and written the moniker on the barrel in silver pen. Gordon smirked.

* * *

Samus considered the crash course in primitive artillery to be more informative than (as she had assumed) a simple amusing diversion. For one thing, without her energy cannon, she had to rely on these simpler weapons to fight off her foes. For another, it had been some time since she'd used solid projectile weapons. She had few doubts that she would fall back into the rhythm, though.

"Magnum .357," Barney said, holding up a bulky handgun, "One of the heavier handguns, but it'll punch a hole in just about anything short of a tank. Six shots – if you run out, just swing out the cylinder – like this – let the shells drop out, pop in another magazine – like this – shut it, and you're ready to go." She watched him closely as he loaded the weapon with a magazine of six shells, slapped the cylinder back in place, and gave it a spin before stowing it in a shoulder holster. She was not entirely unfamiliar with kinetic weapons, but decided it would be best to learn how these specific ones worked, rather than be caught fumbling with a gang of Metroids bearing down on her.

"Got anything bigger?" Samus asked, her eyes skimming the selection of rifles, before her eye caught on what appeared to be a three-foot-long energy cannon being prepared by Gordon. The scientist was wearing powered armor (a rather primitive design, in her opinion) and had selected a light handgun, stowing it in a leg holster. She wondered what training someone like him would have in weaponry.

"Ah – that?" Barney said, having followed her gaze, "That's the Zero Point Energy Field Manipulator I told you about earlier. We only have one of those, but I'm sure you'll see it in action this evening."

"Hey," Gordon called, "Where's my good luck charm?"

"Hanging on the back of the door," Barney called back, pointing with his free hand. Samus watched as Gordon went to the door in question and located a well-used crowbar wrapped with worn orange tape. He grabbed it and tucked it into his belt before heading outside to meet his squad.

"So, an energy cannon and… a crowbar?" Samus raised a questioning eyebrow at Barney.

"It's what he does," Barney replied with a shrug. "I asked him about it once, and he just said, 'This is my crowbar. There are many like it, but this one is mine.' But, hey – whatever works."

A bit disappointed (the Zero Point Energy Field Manipulator was about the same size as her arm cannon and thus would have suited her fine), she picked up a sizeable rifle. "Tell me about this one."

"Ah, a woman after my own heart. The submachine gun. Modified Heckler & Koch MP7 PDW used by the Combine. We, uh, 'borrowed' these during the war," he clarified, hooking his fingers into air quotes. "Average magazine, one of _these_, holds 45 rounds, so less reloading than the Magnum. You run out, you eject the magazine – like this – slap the new one in – like this – chamber a round, and you're good to go. Not too accurate at range, but you can take something's face off easily in close quarters."

She hefted the weapon, examining it with a critical eye. "I'll take it." It had a nice weight in her hands, as comforting to her as a teddy bear.

"And in so doing, you will be the dream girl of half the regiment, I guarantee you." She grinned, hoisting the gun onto her shoulder and posing with her other hand on her hip. "Next up… armor. What's that suit made of?"

She glanced down at herself. "It's stronger than it looks. I've delved into Metroid colonies in this and come back unscathed."

"Well, wear a flak vest anyway. Things will be getting a bit crazy out there." He pushed an armored vest into her hands and shrugged into one of his own; she saw that it matched up almost exactly with the fade pattern on his shirt. "At the very least, you'll need the pockets and the radio."

She sighed, but shrugged into it and zipped it up. Barney stocked himself up on extra ammo clips, directing her to do the same. As she stocked up, Barney reached over to the collar of her flak vest, pulling an earpiece with attached mic out of the vest's collar. She took it and screwed it into her ear.

"Keep in touch with your squad at all times," he said, "Make sure you know where everyone is while you're out in the field. That way you don't accidentally shoot one of your comrades." Samus nodded; she'd heard all this before during various briefings back home. He put in his own earpiece. "Testing, testing. Everybody online?"

There was a scattering of confirmations.

"Great. Gordon, how do things look outside?"

Gordon's voice came through her earpiece. "It's kind of foggy. No house lights are on. There might be an issue with the generator."

"Check it out if you have time. Any signs of life?"

"Not yet. No movement, and I don't hear anything. I'd almost feel better if I could at least hear someone calling for help."

"Copy that. Stay sharp." A shadow of doubt flickered across Barney's face, but he masked it quickly. He called to the rest of his squad: "Okay, people – is everybody ready to rock and roll?"

There was a chorus in the affirmative.

* * *

Gordon had gone into many scary situations before in his lifetime: diving into a tank of water containing what amounted to an alien sea monster, leaping into a wormhole that would take him into the heart of hostile territory, riding a transport pod that would take him to the lynchpin of an extraterrestrial conspiracy. But the places that unnerved him the most were the quiet areas, where you knew the monsters dwelt but they were very good at hiding. What made it worse was the fact that this district was a bustling area usually populated by chattering adults and the laughter of small children. He'd never realized how much the sound of kids running around comforted him until he'd found himself dropped into a world where no one was younger than twenty.

"All right," Gordon said, trying to sound less weirded out than he was, "Stay alert, everyone." Dog let out a low electronic whine, glancing around.

"Dog's right," said Marco, "This place is damn spooky."

"It's like a tomb," Alyx murmured, as the squad stepped forward into the abandoned street. She gripped a rifle close, ready to react to any attacks.

"Not a tomb," Galia rumbled, "Life yet endures."

"Yeah," Alyx replied, "But what kind of life?"

Gordon held the Gravity Gun at the ready as he led his squad into the abandoned neighborhood, reassured by the proximity of trusted allies. In the shadows, strange chirps and thin warbles wafted out to them – nothing that sounded human. Gordon shuddered; whatever happened here had happened fast. From the time the perimeter siren went off until the present couldn't have been more than a half hour… so where was everyone?

"Hey, what's that?" Marco pointed past Gordon, at a shape in the middle distance; as they edged closer the shape proved to be human, someone lying face-down in the middle of the road. Gordon signaled a halt. Whoever it was didn't have the desiccated look of previous Metroid victims – and he was moving slightly.

"Possible survivor," he said, "Marco, bring a medkit. The rest of you, stay back and cover us." He put up the Gravity Gun and approached the fallen man, whose curious writhing continued unabated. He was making no noises, even the feeble groans of the critically injured.

"This doesn't feel right, Freeman," Marco said, still keeping his pistol ready.

"We have to make sure," Gordon replied, though the hair on the back of his neck was prickling. He bent to get a look at the man… and saw a translucent shape slide into view from under the man's abdomen. Gordon saw movement in his peripheral vision.

"AMBUSH!" he yelled, just as a pack of a dozen Metroids struck from the shadows.

Almost instantly the air was filled with the chattering of gunfire. The one that had been hiding under the corpse darted at Gordon, and he grabbed it with the Gravity Gun and punted it, the force causing the thing to explode in a sticky shower of viscous protoplasm. He turned – and found that the Metroids had flanked them, cutting them off from the rest of the squad. This was no obstacle for Dog, though, as he leaped forward and swept an armload of them aside. They collided and bounced like balloons before heading back at their targets. One of them tried to latch on to his steel hand on the backswing, and he grabbed it, crushing it with a wet _splurch_. A bolt of green electricity arced from Galia's claws, bursting two of the Metroids before exploding against a building. Alyx dodged and sidestepped as the floating menaces tried to outflank her, firing as the opportunity presented itself. Gordon swung his crowbar at a pair that swooped too close; the hooked end tore through the outer membrane of one, and it squealed as it deflated, limping away. The other one he punted with the Gravity Gun, and it bounced drunkenly like a half-inflated rubber ball against a nearby building. Another pair approached, but hesitated as he trained the Gravity Gun on them, daring them to come within range. After a few moments, they apparently decided that today was not a good day to die, and floated off.

It seemed like an eternity before the echoes of gunfire finally faded, to be replaced by the sounds of four people catching their breath and waiting for their collective heart rate to return to normal.

As the echoes faded, Gordon heard – or thought he heard – a sound at the edge of his hearing. It was a high, thin sound, and it came and went in cycles. It took him a few moments to place it – but when he did, his blood went cold. He froze in place, turning his head so he could determine what direction the sound was coming from.

"Hey Gordon, what—?" Marco started, but Gordon put up a hand to silence him.

"Do you hear that?" he asked, and then pointed. "Over there."

The rest of the squad strained to hear.

"What is that?" Marco asked.

It was not a new sound, not by far – in fact, it was as old as humanity – but it had not been heard by the people of Earth for twenty years, until three years ago, when the Combine suppression field was disabled. Under normal contexts it stimulated nurturing instincts, but here, in the deathly silence, it was chilling.

"It's a baby," Alyx said, echoing his own conclusions, "It's the sound of a baby crying."

"Follow me," Gordon said, "And stay close."

* * *

"Talk to me, Gordon," Barney said into his radio. He'd heard the crack of gunfire, but no call for assistance.

"Ambush in Sector C2," Gordon replied, and still sounded a bit shaken, "The little bastards set a trap with a dead body. About a dozen of them. We're all okay, though."

"I told you those things were smart," Samus said into her radio, "You should have been more careful."

"We're still learning about these things, Miss Aran. We're adapting."

"Adapt faster. They aren't likely to wait for you." Samus didn't like excuses – and less so the people who habitually made them.

Gordon's only reply was an irritated grunt.

"I'm sending out Bravo Squad to your area for backup," Barney said, "Sit tight and don't die."

"We're headed towards sector F5 right now – we heard a possible survivor in that direction." He paused for somewhat longer than the standard ellipsis, and sounded a bit queasy when he resumed talking. "It sounded like a baby. No sign of any other survivors around anywhere."

"Jesus," Barney breathed.

Samus watched his face work as he mulled over this news. It would be a miracle if something as fragile as a small child survived in the middle of this localized holocaust. He was a soldier, but he didn't have the hardened features she'd seen in military veterans. He looked like he cared about the civilians he defended, rather than seeing this as his duty and nothing more. He reminded her of…

_Any objections, Lady?_

No. Best to stay impartial here.

"How many people lived in this district?" she asked him.

"Sixty – no, sixty-three," Barney corrected himself, "A small family just moved in last week. Hell of a time to set up house in Salvation. _Shit_. I never even found out what their names were—things have been so busy."

"Do you know the names of everyone here?" Samus asked.

"I try to. Helps keep the community together. Most people know me and Gordon on sight. I try to return the favor. Gordon just holes up in his lab and doesn't talk much."

"Sixty-three people," Samus pondered aloud, "A decent-sized pack of Metroids would go through that in about a day. Maybe less."

"I'd rather not think about that right now," Barney said. He looked a bit pale at the thought. "Best to look for survivors before we start counting the bodies."

Samus craned her head to see out into the district. She'd seen a number of mining colonies wiped out by the Metroids. Knowing that this place used to be filled with people, with families, only compounded the tragedy. None of them had been prepared.

Well. She would keep up on her Metroid-hunting tactics while she decided on the best course of action to snare Freeman. It wouldn't be smart to become too attached to these people, no matter what she thought of them as individuals. She'd lost too many close comrades to risk making emotional connections with just anyone.

She was about to inquire further on the local Metroid infestation when her sharp senses picked up movement in the darkness. It was brief, a flash of green in the shadows, but she had hunted Metroids long enough to know their ways. It might have been a slip, an incidental appearance, but her intuition told her otherwise. Metroids made few mistakes.

"Something's wrong," she said, before activating her radio. "Bravo Squad, status report."

"Everything's quiet over here. We're coming up on Alpha Squad now. Dog's busting down the door of one of the homes." There was a smash of splintering wood in the background, followed by a synthetic hoot of victory.

"We got a surviv—oh…" Gordon faltered.

"Talk to me, man," Barney said into his radio. There was no immediate response. "Gordon?"

"I'm here," Gordon said, his voice achieving the sort of artificial calmness that usually precedes horrifying news, "We got one survivor. The other two are dead."

* * *

Gordon had to retreat briefly from the mausoleum that was once home to a family of three. What had bothered him so much wasn't the mummified remains of the parents (though these were gruesome enough), or the deflated remains of a Metroid, still attached to the female but slashed open by a carving knife. As Alyx and Marco continued in to check on the wailing infant, Gordon turned back to the woman's corpse, whose face, with its shriveled eyes and its mouth stretched wide in a silent scream, was framed by a halo of blonde hair. In one bony hand she still clutched the carving knife, now sticky with Metroid protoplasm, testament that she had died defending her baby from imminent harm. What had caught Gordon's eye when he'd entered the small living room was the sparkle of something she was wearing on a slender chain around her neck: a tarnished golden ring set with a diamond.

Gordon knelt by the corpses, their hands locked together (or, more specifically, the hand of hers that was not clutching the carving knife locked around the desiccated remains of her partner's wrist. They wore matching rings, apparently fashioned out of steel rather than gold (as precious metals were hard to come by in recent years), and yet she wore another ring, a more traditional engagement ring, around her neck. The diamond was not very large; the giver of this ring was not wealthy by the standards of the day. In fact, it probably cost about two months of an average security guard's salary, twenty or so years ago.

With a slightly sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, Gordon unclasped the chain from around the dead woman's neck, sliding his visor up and out of the way so he could take a closer look at the ring.

"BC + LM, To Infinity And Beyond," was engraved inside the band, along with the sideways figure-eight symbol representing infinity. Gordon closed his eyes. He'd seen this ring, complete with its endearingly geeky engraving, once before…

"_I've made up my mind," Barney said, "I'm going to ask her this weekend."_

"_You said you couldn't afford a ring," Gordon replied._

"_Yeah, well check this out." Barney pulled out a velvet ring box from his pocket and opened it to reveal a modest diamond ring inside. It wasn't much, but Barney was as heartfelt as they came. "I even got it engraved, see?"_

"_Nice. I'm sure she'll be thrilled." He exchanged a fist bump with Barney. "Good luck."_

That had been two days before the Black Mesa Incident.

And now, more than twenty years later, Gordon would have to deliver the worst news in the history of interpersonal communications. Then he looked at the corpses and their steel wedding bands (he wasn't sure what the equivalent civil union would be called now), and glanced up as Alyx and Marco emerged from the adjoining bedroom. In Alyx's arms was a small baby – less than a year old by Gordon's estimations.

He sighed. _Well_, he thought, _the second worst, anyway._

Compared to these, though, the shout of alarm from outside came in a close third.

* * *

End of Part 4.


	5. Small Comforts

Disclaimers: See Part 1.

* * *

In the half-second or so between the call for help over the radio and Charlie Squad's deployment in response, Samus took off running. Before long, she had easily outrun nearly all of Charlie squad, headed in the direction of renewed gunfire.

She heard a voice in her radio, probably Niko: "Holy _shit_ she's fast!"

Of course, she considered that she would probably be faster if she had the aid of her Power Suit, but there was nothing to be done for that now. In any case, she was more agile without it, though she made a mental note to find out from Barney (or even Gordon) where her control gloves were once this was over. She sprinted at a wall, ran up it, and was over in a heartbeat, rolling to absorb the impact of her landing on the other side.

"Hey Gordon," Barney said over the radio, "Charlie Squad's coming to back you up – though it looks like Samus will get there first. What's your situation?"

"They closed in after Bravo got here," Gordon shouted into his radio, straining to be heard over the firefight while he tucked the ring away in an empty ammo pouch for safekeeping. Behind him, he heard the infant wailing. There was nothing he could do for that now, other than keeping the attackers at bay; the rest he left in Alyx's hands. "We're cut off. Bronwyn's trying to clear a path." He paused to fire at a Metroid that had latched onto Anton. It squealed and splattered like a water balloon; Anton collapsed to his knees and dragged himself to the shelter of the house, where Marco pried the twitching pincers from his chest. Anton was pale, and lay unmoving but for slight spasms, his breathing labored. "We need an exit, fast!"

"How many Metroids?" Samus shouted.

Gordon peeked out and frowned in dismay. "Seventy or so. Maybe more. It's hard to tell."

"Healthy-sized pack," she murmured speculatively, then said, louder, "I'm coming up on your location now."

Seeking higher ground to better survey the battlefield, Samus hopped up a pile of crates and from there pulled herself onto a rooftop. She made her way over to the edge overlooking the battlefield.

"Talk to me, people," Barney said over the radio.

"I'm getting a look at the situation now," she said, "I'm guessing the Metroids hid out and waited until the door was broken open before they tried to get their prize. Looks like a hard fight now. Alpha and Bravo are pretty well surrounded, one wounded – no, two… Jun just got grabbed. Some kind of big robot is getting it off her now." She watched as the main body of the Metroid in question was torn away from the pincers by a metal hand.

"That would be Dog," Barney informed her, "Where's the kid?"

"Inside, I imagine, with most of Alpha."

"I've got an idea," Gordon called, "We just need them distracted for a bit."

"Oh, I think I can do that," Samus grinned, chambering a round.

"Don't do anything stupid," Barney cautioned her, "Charlie's almost there."

Inside, Alyx had fashioned her jacket into a sling over her flak vest, so she could carry the infant close while keeping her hands free. Their precious cargo was nestled inside; the child had quieted somewhat, comforted by the warm proximity of someone female enough to pass as its mother, but was still clearly upset by the continued racket of gunfire.

"Barney, which way are you coming from?" Gordon asked.

"The northwest. I can see Samus on a roof to your west getting ready to start something."

"All right," Gordon said, his mind working fast, "Alyx, we need to get the baby to safety before we get swarmed. Dog can run faster than any of us, and those things can't latch onto him. Strap yourself to his back so he can protect you both and you can keep an eye out. I'll need some belts, people, any you can spare." He poked his head outside. "Hey Dog! Parsifal! Galia!"

"_Vwooop_?" The robot was splattered with Metroid goo, but otherwise undamaged. He shook some of it free from his head and focused on Gordon as the two Vortigaunts approached.

"I have an important mission for you. Parsifal and Galia, when I give the signal, I need the two of you to clear a path to the northwest so our people can get in and Dog can get out. Dog, when they do that I need you to take Alyx and the baby back to the main base as fast as you can." Dog nodded, hooting in understanding. "Keep them both safe, but hurry. Make sure none of the Metroids latch on to either of them."

"The Malachi wishes to participate," Parsifal informed him. Gordon had to take a moment to remember that Vortigaunts could communicate by nonverbal means. Whether it could be considered telepathy or not, Gordon had never received a straight answer.

"Good. We can use the help. Barney, I need Charlie squad to help cover Dog's escape. Thanks," he said as he was handed a few lengths of the cotton webbing normally used for weapon belts. Their donors were not likely to re-holster their weapons until everyone was out.

"Got it," Barney said, having heard the plan, "We'll be waiting to pick off any space invaders that try to mess with them."

Samus watched and listened as Gordon set up his escape plan. He sounded like a different man from the soft-spoken, mild-mannered scientist she had seen inside. Keeping a level head in the middle of a battle like this was more associated with soldiers where she came from—but it seemed, judging by how well his assessment of the situation matched her own, that he had the mind of a strategist. This was going to make things _interesting_ later on…

She also wasn't sure of the Vortigaunts' combat abilities. She saw that they had claws, but melee combat with a Metroid wasn't exactly smart.

"Samus, you're fairly close, right?" she heard in her radio.

"Yes, Gordon," she replied.

"You know how to tear these things down, so you'll help me distract them back here. Once Dog is out, we'll see about evacuating Anton and Jun. They both look like they've been paralyzed from Metroid bites. Charlie squad can help carry them out of here. The rest of us will follow up behind, with you and me at the rear. Sound like a plan?"

"Sounds like a plan." Whether it was a _good_ plan remained to be seen, but to Samus it definitely sounded like a plan, which was usually an improvement over none.

"Good. Get ready to move."

Samus nodded, just as an inquisitive Metroid floated up to investigate the newcomer. She looked directly at it, and it stopped short. It pulsated, first green, then red.

"You _know_ me, don't you?" she murmured to it, "You recognize me." She glanced down as the other Metroids also hesitated. In a wave, they also pulsated red.

"What's going on?" Gordon asked, glancing around as he finished helping Alyx and her precious cargo onto Dog's back so that she stood on the jutting-out struts of the robot's hip joints. By chance, Parsifal was nearby.

"Their Vortessence is resonating in a single thought," the Vortigaunt said.

"What thought is that?" Gordon asked.

Parsifal's central eye shimmered as he considered how best to translate the sentiment. Finally, he decided on a suitable English idiom, nodding in internal satisfaction. "'Oh crap'," he offered.

"Oh, this is gonna be interesting," Gordon remarked as he slung the Gravity Gun across his back; more definite firepower would be needed here. He glanced up at Alyx, who had strapped herself to Dog's back. She had an arm curled around the bundle in its jacket-sling near her chest, with the other gripping a crevice of Dog's armored plating. "All set?" he asked her.

She nodded quickly, biting her lip. He gave her ankle a reassuring squeeze.

"All right." Gordon took a deep breath and drew his handgun, hoping his plan played out in real life like it did in his head, and mentally blocking out the continued crack-crack-crack of gunfire as his allies kept the Metroids at bay.

"Parsifal, Galia, Get ready. On my signal. Charlie squad, are you in place?"

"Ready and waiting," Barney said.

"Ready… _now!_"

Green arcs of lightning exploded from the claws of Parsifal and Galia towards the northwest, matched by a similar inbound arc from Malachi; the inbound arc licked across a nearby lamppost, overloading it and causing the bulb to explode in a shower of glass. The lightning scythed through the Metroids in between, knocking them aside like balloons. To Gordon's dismay, the electrical energy did little to harm them, but nonetheless a path was cleared, however briefly. It was now or never.

"Dog, go!" Gordon swatted Dog's flank, and Alyx leaned close to the gorilla-like robot's back as he loped off at full tilt through the gap. "Samus, over here!"

Samus leaped off the roof, curling tightly as she flipped through the air. She landed in a crouch near Gordon and added her gunfire to his own. He didn't seem to be afraid, just… focused.

"I'm out!" Alyx called through the radio, sounding a bit breathless.

"We're headed in!" Barney announced, immediately afterwards.

Gordon had always found it best to focus on the immediate goal when surrounded by enemies that all wanted to eat your face – this left less room in the foreground of one's mind to be afraid. Right now, his goal was to make sure everyone got away safely. He subdivided this into lesser goals: kill the Metroids. Don't let them latch onto me. Don't let them latch onto my allies. Don't accidentally shoot my friends. Make sure Alyx is okay.

As he focused on these smaller goals, time seemed to slow down, as it usually did in the chaos of battle. He was aware of Samus nearby, taking a slightly more acrobatic approach to alien slaying, leaping from obstacle to obstacle, flipping through the air, twisting in mid-leap to avoid enemies, like combat parkour. He wondered what she was capable of when she had her armor on – based on the abilities of his own powered armor, it was safe to assume that hers would have equivalent or greater abilities, which would make her a very efficient hunter of hostile alien species.

Meanwhile, Gordon stayed away from flourishes. Find your target. Shoot. Find your target. Shoot. Reload. Find your target.

"We've got Jun!" Barney called, "Where's Anton?"

"In the house," Gordon said. Find your target. Shoot.

"Man, you should see Samus right now!"

"Stop staring at her ass, Barney. You can do all the sightseeing you want back at the base."

"Not if I have anything to say about it." Samus didn't even sound winded.

"What's your location, Samus?"

"Behind you. Charlie squad is checking over Jun, and Barney's pulling Anton out of the house now." She ejected a spent clip and reloaded.

"Marco, give me a hand with this!" Barney called.

"I'm on it!" Marco replied, grabbing Anton's ankles as Barney lifted him under the shoulders. The paralyzed man flopped like a rag doll, his head lolling.

"Barney, behind you!" Samus yelled. Before he had a chance to do much more than duck, he heard the chattering of the submachine gun, and the Metroid exploded in a shower of protoplasm, splattering Barney and part of Marco.

"Yuck," Barney grumbled, wiping his face off, "Nice shot, Samus."

"Thanks," she replied, before returning her attention to the fight in time to kick at a Metroid that was coming in low. It bounced off a wall with a baffled squeak.

The three squads formed a defensive circle around the two injured members as they pulled out of the area. The Vortigaunts kept their escape route clear at the front, while Gordon and Samus covered the rear.

"Alyx," Gordon said into his radio, "What's your position?"

"I just got back to the base," she replied, and he heard her grunt as she dismounted from Dog. The infant in her care was still upset and scared, but at least it was safe.

"We'll need some paramedics ready when we get back."

"I'm on it. I'll have the kid checked out too."

"Great. See you soon."

The Metroids paused as the group withdrew, seeming to watch them eyelessly. They made no sounds, not even of frustration, pulsing red and yellow in what Gordon took to be colors of alarm or agitation. Maybe the humans' show of force had spooked them. Gordon could only hope.

They saw no other Metroids in the district, and even the ones they left behind melted into the shadows as they left.

Soon, all that remained in the area were the dead.

* * *

Collecting and identifying the bodies was a task that would likely take all night, even in a community as small as Salvation. Once he had the Hazard suit off (again, with the aid of two assistants – he was going to be _glad_ when Bob finished the Mark 6) Gordon pulled the diamond ring on its chain from the ammo pouch and shoved it into his pants pocket. He would rather Barney not see it until Gordon knew for sure whether the corpse who had been wearing it was in fact Lauren. He made his way towards the morgue which, even now, was filling with rows of shriveled, mummified corpses, tagged and identified by the sector in which they had been found. Gordon grimaced. Even if the tissue samples pointed them to any surviving family members, it was never easy telling people that a loved one was dead. He especially wasn't looking forward to breaking the news (if any) to Barney.

He caught Dr. Kleiner's eye, and his mentor greeted him with a wan smile.

"Good evening, Gordon," Kleiner said, glancing sadly at the neatly arranged rows of bodies. "Rather a rotten business these days, isn't it?"

"Any updates on Anton and Jun?" Gordon asked.

"Still paralyzed, but fortunately, it only seems to be affecting their skeletal muscles. Their heart rate and breathing weren't much affected. Anton lost some blood, though."

Gordon nodded. "And the child Alyx brought in?"

"A relatively healthy baby girl, I'm pleased to say. She was a bit dehydrated, and quite hungry, but she'll recover nicely. She took a bottle readily. We'll just need to find someone to take care of her."

Gordon nodded. "Isaac, could you do me a big favor?"

Kleiner's eyebrows raised; Gordon seldom called him Isaac except in serious contexts. "Yes, Gordon?"

"The bodies from Southeast F5 – could you put a rush on identifying those? It's kind of important."

Kleiner glanced over at the tagged bodies with a frown. "F5? That's where you found the infant, correct?" Gordon nodded. "Well, I can understand the need to find her surviving family – but this isn't entirely about that, is it?" He raised his eyebrows again at Gordon; as loopy as Dr. Kleiner could be at times, he still had a sharp mind, and could be remarkably insightful at times.

"No," Gordon said, "Not entirely. I have a theory I need tested – but it would probably be best if you didn't have any preconceptions about it going in. I'll explain later."

Dr. Kleiner nodded in understanding. "We can have the results back by morning." His gaze flicked past Gordon. "Ah, Miss Vance! I trust you had as much fun in your excursion as Gordon did?"

Gordon turned to Alyx, who smiled wearily. "I need to add some shock absorbers on Dog if I'm going to do that again. He is definitely not built for long-term passenger use." She gingerly rubbed one calf.

"Well, it sure beats being pitched across a ravine in a wrecked car," Gordon pointed out, remembering with something less than fond nostalgia how that one turned out – and it would have been fine had the floor not given way under them after they'd landed. Oh, well. Worse things had happened to him. And better things, too, he thought while he hugged Alyx. "You did a good job today. Everyone did." The two of them left the morgue.

"Barney's got another squad out to clear out the rest of the Metroids while the bodies are being gathered up," Alyx said, interrupting his thoughts.

"What, already?"

"Yeah – he especially wanted to run a perimeter walk to find out where they got in… and to get Kincaid." She leaned against him slightly. "_And_ he told me to make sure you get some rest."

"I still look that bad, huh?"

"You've looked worse."

"That's not saying much." He sighed. "Well, there's nothing much I can do till morning, I guess. I think I can afford to slack off a bit. Dinner?"

"Sounds good."

They rounded a corner and nearly collided with Samus, who was coming from the armory. She had shed her armored vest and submachine gun.

"Hey," Alyx said, by way of greeting. Samus inclined her head to the other woman, before addressing Gordon.

"I need my control gloves back," she asserted simply.

"Oh – for your armor?" Gordon asked.

Samus nodded. "That fight would have gone a lot better if I'd had my Power Suit and proper energy weapons."

Gordon frowned. She saw what sort of weapons they had available – none of them flashy zap-zap guns. Did she think lasers grew on trees?

"Right now Bob has your gloves at one of the labs," he said, adding by way of explanation, "He's one of our engineers. He's hoping to reverse engineer some of the technology so I can get in and out of the Hazard Suit easier."

"Then I want to talk to Bob. Now, please."

"Sure," Gordon sighed, "Right this way." He exchanged a glance with Alyx once they were both past her, but neither of them said anything out loud about the matter; the two of them were close enough that a single glance could carry whole conversations.

* * *

As Samus followed the two, she could tell that Barney wasn't just teasing when he called Alyx Gordon's girlfriend. They weren't all over each other like heated adolescents (and in any case Gordon didn't seem the type for gratuitous displays of affection), but they didn't need to be. It was a subtle combination of small gestures – a look, a brush of his hand against hers – that indicated to her that the two cared for each other deeply. They trusted each other with their lives. That was the likeliest reason why Alyx was willing to go along with Gordon's plan – she trusted him that it would work. And then there was the fleeting look of concern that crossed his face when Dog took off into the fray. Samus remembered forging similar relationships as a Federation soldier; being able to implicitly trust one's commanding officer was a valuable trait that was hard-won and wisely kept.

"All right," Gordon said presently, "Here's the research lab." He pushed through a door into a large room, sterile white-on-white with a number of tools set up for various tasks. "Hey, Bob, Samus is here about her gloves." Bob stepped back from his current task and peered at his visitors.

Samus was a bit nonplussed to discover that Bob was another one of those green humanoids that the locals had called "Vortigaunts"; considering the more exotic names that the other Vortigaunts had, "Bob" just didn't seem to fit. Bob was not a name usually given to an alien creature with seven eyes and a third arm growing from its chest.

"The Traveler arrives," Bob rumbled, "Are the Free Man and the Alyx Vance giving a tour of the research labs?"

"Not quite," Gordon said, "What's the progress on reverse engineering those gloves?"

"The Bob has determined the depth and breadth of the required technology", Bob explained, "And it has been determined that the Traveler's suit is designed to interface with the armor. Some adjustments will need to be made."

"What sort of adjustments?"

"How does the Free Man feel about wearing a skintight interfacing suit of a similar design to that of the Traveler's to facilitate the activation of the H.E.V. Mark Six?"

Gordon briefly entertained a slightly awkward mental picture involving himself in a futuristic blue spy catsuit. The Hazard suit was close-fitting enough by itself, once one took into account wearing civilian clothing under it. Wearing another layer under it like Superman would be a pain, especially if it added an extra step of stripping down to it beforehand. He could name a couple people who would be entertained by the idea, but…

"Can you work around it?" he asked hopefully.

Bob made a rumbling noise that might have been a chuckle. "It can be done. It will take another day, during which period the Mark Five will be required for retrofitting. It will be ready for testing tomorrow evening."

"So can I have my control gloves back?" Samus asked.

"The Traveller may have the gloves back. They are not needed any further." Bob reached over with his thin third arm and handed the gloves to Samus.

"One more thing, Samus, while we're here," Gordon said as Samus pulled her gloves back on.

"Yes?" she said, feeling less naked now that she had access to her Power suit.

"You mentioned energy weapons before. You saw that the Vortigaunts' natural electrical attacks didn't do a whole lot – at best, it disoriented them a little, and at worst it might have pissed them off. What sort of energy would you recommend against these things?"

"They're vulnerable to extreme cold," Samus said, "I suggest freezing them if you face them again."

"You could have mentioned that before," Alyx said, sounding a bit annoyed, "It would have made that battle a hell of a lot easier."

"I didn't expect you to still be using incendiary projectile weapons," Samus replied coolly. "I was a bit disappointed, actually."

"Well, excuse us from not being the _Battlestar Galactica_," Alyx growled.

Gordon put his hands up in a placating gesture. "Ladies, please," he interjected, "could we not have a brawl in the research lab? We have a lot of hazardous chemicals in here, and I don't want to have to take either of you to the burn ward."

The two women glared at Gordon, then at each other, but stepped back.

"As for a cold weapon, that shouldn't be much of a problem," he continued, "We have refrigerants around here, and improvising new weapons is sort of what we do here."

Samus glanced over at him doubtfully. "Energy weapons are a bit different in concept from projectile weapons. Just out of curiosity, what's your scientific discipline?"

"My discipline? Theoretical physics, why?"

"You could be able to cobble something together, then."

Gordon frowned, considering the possibilities. "Yeah… I guess I could. Let's see…" He turned aside as his mind worked, gesturing with an index finger as though writing on a chalkboard only he could see. Everyone else in the room was instantly forgotten.

Alyx sighed. "There goes our relaxing evening together. The man's a mental pit bull once he gets an idea." She glanced at Samus. "By the way, you might want to stop by and see Dr. Thorne in room 32 about that blood sample. The sooner we have a working vaccine against those Metroids, the better." With that, she left.

"Room 32," Samus repeated, before turning to Bob, "Which way is that?"

Bob pointed.

"Thanks," she said, and turned to leave.

"Traveler," Bob said behind her.

Samus turned back. "Yeah, what?" she asked the Vortigaunt.

Bob's central eye gleamed as he locked gazes with her. "You are watched," he pronounced simply. He stood like that for a few seconds before turning back to his work.

Samus blinked and frowned in confusion. Could the Vortigaunts know about her mission? Were they keeping an eye on her? How would they know? Did they have access to information that most humans didn't? She needed to find out, without tipping her hand. She didn't yet know how friendly the Vortigaunts were towards Gordon (which in turn would determine the defenses he would have on hand when she made her move). There was still a lot she didn't know about the local factions. She would have to move cautiously.

* * *

Samus left the main complex that evening after giving another vial of blood to the researchers, her arm still tender from the catheter. _What a backwater planet_, she thought, _that they still required such archaic devices for collecting blood. It was a wonder that they were able to fight off an extraplanetary threat like the Combine in this technological state._ Gabriel had also questioned her about the Metroids as he took the blood sample, going into more detail than Gordon had. They appeared to be studying the Metroids' internal anatomy in detail (which she knew would be useful in finding a way to stop them) but weren't making a whole lot of progress. They had a long way to go if they were going to clean out a whole Metroid hive.

Her gunship was still where it had crashed, though now it was surrounded by yellow caution tape. Of course, it was also still a little banged up, but that would remedy itself in time, and besides, that wasn't her reason for returning to it. She nodded to the two men guarding the ship (they recognized her and saluted in return), and headed into the open hatch, scanning the interior of the ship to make sure everything was still in place. The closeness of the cockpit comforted her, like the embrace of a lover or a trusted friend.

Detecting her approach, a soft purple light came on in the control panel.

"Good evening, Lady," said a polite, pleasant male voice.

"Good evening, Adam," she responded with a smile. The AI of her gunship was largely controlled by the mind of her old commander in the Galactic Federation, Adam Malkovich, rendered into digital form after he had sacrificed his life to save hers. "I trust the evening finds you well?"

"As well as might be expected after that landing," he replied, not unkindly, "I've almost finished on internal repairs, after which I shall get to work on the outer shell."

"How long do you think it will be before you're spaceworthy again?" She curled herself into the command chair.

"Unknown. The jolt during the hyperspace jump was quite unexpected, and it damaged the drive."

"Damn," Samus sighed. She knew there was a good reason why midjump changes weren't allowed. Well, we couldn't all have good news. "I've made good progress on my latest bounty run," she said.

"Lady?"

"I've already made contact with the target, one Gordon Freeman. My employer said he was a dangerous man, but… he's a scientist. A theoretical physicist, to be specific – who, apparently, has been trained in combat situations and the use of firearms. I'm not sure how they train scientists here, but unless he's a very broad-scope polymath I doubt he'll be much of a problem if I catch him off-guard. The weapons here are rather primitive solid projectile guns."

Adam paused. "I am afraid I am a bit confused," Adam said.

Samus frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I have no record of a bounty assignment."

"But… he called during the jump."

"Impossible, Lady. It is not possible to send or receive radio signals whilst in hyperspace."

"I know what I heard, Adam. This wasn't a hallucination from space madness."

"I am not accusing you of a fit of astropsychosis, Lady."

"Then what are you saying? I picked up a stray communication that happened to address me by name, and then dropped us both on a planet near where the target is?"

"I am saying that I have no record of any such communication. I am sorry."

She slumped back in the command chair, arms wrapped around her knees.

"Well, _somebody_ contacted me with a bounty. The events fit together too well to be coincidence."

"What is the name of your employer, then? Perhaps I could devote a few cycles to finding out who he is and what argument he could have with Mr. Freeman."

Samus hesitated. "He never gave his name. He just said he would contact me in seven days… which means that he would have to put the standard down payment in my account. Adam—"

"Checking it now." The purple orb that served as Adam's eye flickered briefly. "A sum of five thousand Federation credits has been added to your account."

She frowned. "How long ago was the deposit made?"

"Six hours ago. At that time you were just coming out of hyperspace."

"Hm. That guy works fast. And he's done his research. So I have a lot of evidence pointing towards a bounty assignment… except for the actual communication in which the assignment was detailed?"

"It looks that way, Lady."

"I'm open to recommendations."

Adam considered the problem. "All other things being equal, you appear to have a bounty assignment. I would proceed as usual unless you receive additional evidence to the contrary."

"One more thing, though," she said.

"Yes, Lady?"

"They say this planet is Earth, the old name for Solus-3."

"Interesting… particularly since Solus-3 was rendered uninhabitable to humans several centuries ago."

"By what means?"

"Metroid infestation."

Samus uncurled and leaned forward. "Repeat that, please."

"Solus-3, also known as Earth, was rendered uninhabitable to humans several centuries ago by Metroid infestation," Adam calmly reiterated.

"What year?" she asked.

"By the Federation calendar, the year of planetary abandonment of Solus-3 was… 2036 AD. The surviving human inhabitants left the planet by means of interdimensional portals, with the aid of an unspecified extraterrestrial species. This species additionally aided them in the development of more efficient interplanetary travel systems, including the precursor to the hyperspace jump drive." The orb flickered again. "No additional information is currently available."

Samus sat back. "Okay. See what else you can dig up. I'm going to get some sleep."

"As you wish, Lady."

"Good night, Adam."

"Good night, Lady."

Samus curled up in the command chair as the ambient lighting of the cockpit dimmed to a more soothing level.

* * *

End of Part 5.


	6. Revelations

Disclaimer: See Part 1.

* * *

Gordon woke late (for him) the next morning, at about 8 o'clock. Alyx was already up, to judge by the cooling dent in the mattress and pillow next to him. He'd been up half the night planning and tinkering with the freeze weapon Samus suggested, which served to occupy his mind until his vision started to blur, making his handwriting illegible even to him. It was after midnight before he retired, climbing into bed with Alyx and pulling her close. She'd hugged him in her sleep.

Now, though, the probable fate of Barney's fiancée loomed large in his mind. He was not looking forward to finding out in the affirmative that he'd found Lauren… but he couldn't exactly avoid the possibility forever. The main problem was that Barney was Gordon's best friend. It naturally fell to him to deliver the news, and to offer what support he could while Barney mourned. Dammit, why did he have to be the stoic all the time?

He sighed. Crap. He would have to address this sometime. Avoiding it accomplished nothing.

He got up, went into the bathroom to urinate, and once there noted the smell of stomach acid coming from the toilet. Had Alyx gotten sick while he was asleep? He hoped she wasn't coming down with something. He would ask her when he saw her next… or once he was done with everything else. Argh. He took a leak and then got dressed, making sure the ring was safe in his pocket. He would have to return it to Barney sometime today, after he found out the identity of the one who'd been wearing it.

So many things to do, and to check on…

But he'd found the key to avoiding undue stress was a solid routine, so he headed for the front door headed outside. He'd already been fairly fit as a Black Mesa scientist; this was a requirement of employment due to the research facility's ties to the military, and the fitness regimen had been compared to that of the U.S. Marine Corps (Gordon had independently discovered this to be a bit of hyperbole). Add to this his Hazard training, which included not only firearms but also some hand to hand combat, and one was left with the sort of scientist that would make high school jocks and bullies think twice about stuffing that chemistry nerd in his locker.

Even after saving the world, the old Black Mesa morning routine stayed with him as a Resistance fighter (and served him well, at that). He just wasn't yet sure whether it would help him face this current challenge.

Well. A brisk run should help clear his head before he dove into his day. He made his way outside, stretched (it was brisk outside, but not too cold), and started to jog.

* * *

"Morning, Samus!" Barney called, leaning into the gunship's hatch.

Samus jerked awake with a surprised yelp, nearly falling out of the command chair.

"It appears you have an unexpected visitor," Adam said mildly from the console, "Would you like him expelled?"

Samus peered around the command chair. Barney grinned and waved. She sighed.

"No, let him in," she murmured to Adam, before turning to greet her visitor. "Barney! What are you doing in here?" she snapped, a bit put out by his casual violation of the sanctity of her ship.

"I didn't see you in the cantina this morning, so I thought I'd bring you some breakfast. Uh, you _do_ know we have spare beds inside, right?"

She got up and stretched. "I've slept in my ship before. How did the sweep go?" Barney looked like he'd only gotten half a night's sleep.

"It was weird. It was like all the Metroids vanished after the rescue. No breaches in the perimeter wall, either."

Samus considered this. Of course they'd be gone once the defenders removed the last of the prey (no matter how small a morsel the infant was), but the lack of openings in the perimeter wall was problematic. In all likelihood, then, they'd come from underground – which was an even bigger pain in the ass. Until they found the entrance, there wouldn't even be any clues as to the location of the nest. "Did you find Kincaid?"

He made a face. "Yeah, around midnight. The creepy part was, he was still holding his radio. It scared the piss out of Marco. Here. Eat up." He offered her a warm cloth bundle. When she took it, she found that the bundle contained some sort of pastry. "Sasha makes them," Barney continued, "They're pretty popular, but I managed to snag a spare for you."

It was strange, being in a place where Samus' bounty hunter reputation didn't precede her. Most people treated her with respect, caution, or even fear. Maybe if Barney was about twenty years younger…

No. That wouldn't work out well. Those things never did. She'd lost too many loved ones over her lifetime to risk opening up to a virtual stranger.

"I see you got your gloves back," Barney said, glancing at her hands.

She nodded curtly and took a bite of the pastry. It was filled with egg and cheese. "I was a bit annoyed to find them missing. Apparently someone took them to a laboratory for reverse engineering while I was unconscious."

"But hey, you have them back now, so no harm, no foul, right?" Barney shrugged, as casual as he was when they first met. She found his ability to switch between roles like that – between civilian and commander – to be… noteworthy. It was not always easy to separate different parts of one's life like that, not without one bleeding over into the other. Sending friends and loved ones into the heat of battle… Keeping the war from getting into your mind… It was difficult. Memories had a way of searing themselves into your retinas. "So, you still up for a tour of the place?" he asked with a grin that only slipped slightly when he added, "I think we got cut short with the attack on Southeast yesterday."

She took a few moments to consider his offer. Getting an idea of the layout of the place would be to her advantage – she would need a clear escape route if and when she managed to capture Gordon. She would have to find some way to ditch Barney at some point, though; even setting aside the fact that he seemed fond of her (though she wasn't sure why), witnesses to a bounty capture might make things a bit complicated. Whatever she had to do on that topic would have to be sudden – if he got a hint of this beforehand, he might fight her off. He was a skilled soldier and about twice her size; while he had ultimately failed to restrain her the first time, during their next encounter he might not be so concerned about hurting her.

On the bright side, he seemed to be sympathetic to her apparent shipwreck. She decided that she could bide her time until opportunity struck, and nothing would be lost by taking a tour and accepting the companionship of one of the locals. In the meantime, she could find out how much the Vortigaunts knew. She took his hand and stepped down from the ship.

"Sounds like fun," she said.

"Maybe later you can show me all the stuff that armor of yours can do," he said as they walked towards the main complex, "I know Gordon will be interested in figuring out how the arm cannon works."

Samus glanced at Barney but said nothing. _Don't worry,_ she thought, _He'll find out soon enough._

* * *

Gordon felt quite a bit better after his run and a hot shower (the hot water heaters, he recalled, were repaired and fine-tuned by Barney, using the handyman skills he'd gained at Black Mesa as part of his security training). He also now had a good idea in what order he was going to proceed in order to complete the tasks he needed to do today. He got dressed (again ensuring the safety of the ring) and headed for the medical complex.

His first stop was to the research lab, to which Bob had relocated the Hazard Suit for module retrofitting the previous evening. He murmured a greeting to the Vortigaunt before moving past him to the adjoining room, to make sure that what he had remembered writing in his notes last night was the same as what he found the next morning. Ah, yes. He hadn't dissolved into a fit of written babbling before he went to bed the previous night.

It was a variation of the potato gun he'd built in high school, except with no projectile ammunition, a shorter barrel for convenience, and the propellant replaced by a tank of compressed Freon. Hopefully it wouldn't completely fall apart during the first test. He ran a finger down the list of required components, smiling to himself at the irony of using a modified spud cannon on space aliens. Well, he'd used a crowbar on enough of them – he might as well trade up.

He would need to visit the supply house later that day to gather what he needed for the prototype. He stuffed the parts list in his pocket and headed out of the research lab, pausing to see how Bob was doing on the retrofit. Presently the Vortigaunt was working on a black and orange gauntlet similar to those that went with the Hazard Suit, but this one had a round crystal set in the back of the glove. It looked a lot like the control crystal in Samus' glove.

Bob glanced up, having apparently sensed Gordon's interest. "The Mark Six is not yet ready for calibration and testing," he said, "The Bob continues the fine-tuning." Bob's central eye gleamed. "The Free Man worries about the Alyx Vance." It wasn't a question.

Gordon grimaced; it did no good to gloss over the truth with things that could read your mind. "Yeah. I think she threw up this morning. I just hope she's not coming down with something." He paused. "I'll be stopping by the infirmary next to see if she's there."

Bob reached out and rested a leathery hand on Gordon's arm; it was a very human gesture, one of several that the Vortigaunts had picked up. "Life yet endures," Bob said, "Do you see?" Gordon nodded, though he wasn't sure what Bob meant. Bob nodded in return, and then withdrew his hand and returned to his task.

Gordon left the research lab, continuing down the hall towards the infirmary. As he reached the door, he saw Alyx leaving. Noticing him, she smiled.

"Hey, you," she said, before giving him a mock-severe look. "You owe me a relaxing evening, Freeman."

"Yeah," he admitted, "I just got caught up in things last night."

"You're _always_ getting caught up in things, you big handsome nerd." She stepped forward and cupped his face in her hands. "I just want some time for us, is all." He put his arms around her, pulling her close, and neither of them said anything for a while. There were times when he was truly grateful he had her by his side – not just as a romantic partner but also for emotional support. Things had been better since the end of the Combine War, but now things were getting tougher again.

"What did you need in the infirmary?" he finally asked, to break the silence, "Are you feeling okay?"

"I might be getting the flu," she said, "I've been feeling a bit queasy, on and off."

"You seemed okay yesterday afternoon. In fact, you fought like a demon, as usual."

"You didn't see me hacking up my dinner early this morning."

Gordon decided it would be undiplomatic to remark on the vomit smell left behind in the bathroom.

"Did you happen to see Anton and Jun?" he asked instead.

"Still paralyzed," she replied, "But the docs say they're making progress flushing the venom out. Jun managed to move a finger this morning."

He stood there pensively, stroking her thick hair. She'd been letting it grow out since the Combine War ended, and it nearly reached her shoulders in a thick mass of tight curls that, as she sometimes joked, liked to eat combs. He wanted to share some of his concerns with her, especially his suspicion about Lauren – but he didn't want to leap to conclusions about that, and if it was true he wanted Barney to be the first to know.

"Unfortunately, I have a bunch of things to get done this morning," he said finally.

"So do I," Alyx replied, with equal reluctance, stepping back, "There are a couple of shock absorbers with Dog's name on them in the supply house."

"Hey, while you're there, could you pick these up for me?" He fished in his pocket for the parts list and handed it to her. "I'll let you try out the finished product this afternoon when it's done."

She scanned the list, and the contents clicked immediately. "A spud gun?"

"A freeze gun. To use against the Metroids."

"Nice. I look forward to trying it out. Catch you later." She hugged him and kissed him on the cheek before darting off. He watched her go until she disappeared around a corner.

Dammit. He was blushing again. The hero of the human race shouldn't still be shocked about having a hot girlfriend.

* * *

"So, what's it like on Zebes?" Barney asked as he and Samus headed for the hydroponics greenhouses.

"It's an asteroid belt now," Samus said, "It was destroyed when I was 17 years old."

"Oh. I'm sorry." He paused. "Did you live there with your family?"

"My parents worked in a mining colony there. They were killed by Space Pirates when I was three."

"Um, who raised you, then?" Barney was starting to look like he doubted his skills in Chat Fu right about now.

"The Chozo, one of the races native to Zebes. They found me at K2-L after my family was killed, and trained me as a warrior. They gave me my Power Suit."

"Oh. That's neat. Where—?"

"Gone. All that remain are ruins and artifacts. Nobody knows where, but some say the Space Pirates killed them off. They were the only family I really knew."

There was a long pause.

"Wow," Barney finally said, with an awkward chuckle, "I really suck at small-talk today."

Samus took pity on him. "Why don't you tell me about the Metroid infestations? I'd like to get some idea how widespread they are."

Barney gratefully seized the line she'd thrown him. "We're not sure where they came from, or how long they were around before they started picking off some of the farms outside Salvation."

"In what direction?" Samus asked, trying to get some idea where to start looking.

"From the southeast. Cattle started disappearing, only to be found later all shriveled up. Then the farmers got snatched."

"How long ago did it start?"

"A week or so ago. We set out live traps in case they were antlions or something else left over from the Combine. I mean, antlions we know how to handle – it's just a bitch to clean out their burrows one they get dug in, unless you have high explosives and don't care what's built on top. We weren't expecting those little floaty things, those Metroids. Of course, once they'd found a source of food they started nibbling their way in. We had to set armed guards for the farms – to protect the workers, you know; the Metroids didn't go for the fruits or vegetables." Barney paused thoughtfully. "Before long it got too dangerous even for that. We had to move food production inside the city proper, to the greenhouses. We thought we'd stopped them at the walls. You know, regular patrols, keeping a sharp eye out, while we're trying to figure out how to stop them. They're pretty persistent, though. We lost a couple men fighting them. We hadn't had any attacks for a couple days before the… the thing in Southeast. Thought we might have time to regroup – or at least drive them off." He paused again. "Kincaid was a good guy. He didn't need to go out like that."

Samus nodded, understanding the sentiment. She'd lost a number of close comrades to the Metroids as well. "Have any other settlements been attacked?"

Barney shook his head. "Don't know, really. We haven't heard anything from Haven in a while, though. That's south of here, about half a day's travel if you hoof it. Usually we try to keep in touch with new developments like this, but the radio guy here says he's got nothing on that end. No calls, and they're not picking up. And… here we are at the greenhouses." He seemed relieved at the change in topic; the stress in his face eased in the familiar surroundings, far more benign than the battlefield. "Let me sign us in first."

He took a clipboard from its hook beside the door to the nearest greenhouse and scribbled "B. Calhoun + Guest, 6-3-2032" at the bottom of the column of names and dates.

Samus frowned slightly as Barney hung the clipboard back up and opened the door for her. 2032… if they used the same calendar as the Galactic Federation, then two very bad things were going on.

First, she had managed to travel back in time – which was possible in theory, but the possible dangers far outweighed the benefits of serious research into the field. Whoever had hired her had managed to orchestrate this with, it seemed, very little effort on his part. He had access to resources that she couldn't even begin to comprehend.

Secondly, to judge by Adam's history files, there would only be three years before Earth was overrun by Metroids. If one was decently optimistic, Haven was the only other settlement that had been attacked. And there she was with a busted jump drive.

Both possibilities gave her a chill.

* * *

Gordon entered the morgue, currently manned not by Dr. Kleiner but by Gabriel (Gordon made a mental note to find out the man's last name sometime), who glanced up from a stack of printouts and a cup of coffee so strong that Gordon could smell it from the doorway (and wondered idly how it was managing to not eat the coffee mug).

"Good morning, sir," Gabriel greeted Gordon, with caffeinated cheer. "Dr. Kleiner's in his office. You're supposed to see him as soon as you can. Oh, and I got that blood sample from Miss Aran last night. I should be able to manufacture a testable sample in a couple days."

"All right," Gordon said, "Keep me posted." He paused on his way to Kleiner's office, and turned back to Gabriel, "What's your impression of Samus?"

Gabriel frowned in thought. "A bit abrupt at times, I guess," he said, "She looked like she'd never seen a phlebotomy catheter before, either. I had to tell her that a lot of people around here didn't like the injector guns she suggested I use, since the Combine officers sometimes used those to keep their human recruits docile before they were augmented. And as far as the Combine goes, she's either really from another planet or she's been living under a rock for the past twenty-five years, because she didn't get that _look_ when I mentioned them."

Gordon knew that _look_ Gabriel meant – that flicker of fear or hatred that the survivors got in their eyes even now, that instinctive aversion to the Combine that wasn't quite PTSD (though Gordon had seen that in a number of civilians), but more of a Pavlovian response to unpleasant memories. But that didn't quite account for the slightly _off_ feeling Gordon had about her, like there was more to her ship crash than chance. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he got the impression that there was more to her than met the eye. She was a bounty hunter, yes – she had admitted that freely – but beyond that, who was she, really? Gah. If he kept on this way, he could easily make himself paranoid.

"She asked me a bunch of questions about the Combine," Gabriel continued, "But the only ones I've dealt with were the cadavers. I told her to talk to Barney about them, and she perked up a bit."

"She does seem to get along well with Barney," Gordon remarked, considering that Barney might be able to learn more about her than Gordon himself would.

"Everyone gets along with Barney," Gabriel returned, "The only things I know of that didn't were the Combine and Lamarr."

Gordon chuckled at the mention of Kleiner's de-beaked pet headcrab Lamarr, who had vanished a couple of years ago under unknown circumstances. Kleiner was inconsolable for weeks.

"You better go see Dr. Kleiner," Gabriel said, "I'll update you on the serum later."

Gordon nodded and headed past Gabriel to the windowed office door. Beyond it, Dr. Kleiner was reviewing a few files from the previous night's work. Around him, other file folders were stacked, like he was in the middle of making a fort out of paperwork. He looked like he hadn't been up for long himself, but still offered Gordon a cheery smile.

"Ah, Gordon!" Kleiner said brightly, "Good morning!"

"Morning, sir," Gordon said, "Are the results back yet?"

Kleiner's smile slipped slightly. "Ah… yes." He searched through the stacks of files before surfacing with one of them. "This should be… yes. #SE-F525. This is yours." He soberly handed the file to Gordon, who took it. "Come with me. I'll show you the relevant ones for reference."

He led Gordon back to the main section of the morgue. The two bodies in question had been delicately separated; he saw that the female's death-grip on the knife had also been coaxed free, though a couple of fingers had to be broken to release her other hand from the male's wrist. Her arm still stuck out stiffly at a thirty-degree angle. Both corpses had been stripped of their clothing, including the steel wedding bands they wore, and now looked like Ice Age mummies ready for study. They were both covered to the shoulders with white sheets, for the sake of decency.

Well. There would be no delaying it any longer. Gordon opened the file folder and scanned the summary page at the top of the slender document.

His stomach dropped.

"Subject identified as Lauren Jensen, nee McKenzie," it read, "married by civil ceremony to Mark Jensen, 9-12-2031. Living relatives: Unknown." He frowned at this last part.

"No living relatives?" he asked Dr. Kleiner.

"No matches from our database, no," Kleiner replied.

"Then the baby…"

"Is related by blood to Mark Jensen," he said, indicating the male corpse, "Not to her. I checked. He doesn't appear to have any other living relatives either."

Gordon considered this. It was possible that both of them had reasons for entering into a civil union. Jensen may have wanted a mother figure for his child. And Lauren… after she and Barney became separated, she might have needed the security of a family. Maybe. The timing was odd, though. Nine months ago? The infant would have been only a few months old then, at most. If the baby's mother was dead, it was likely that Jensen was still reeling from the loss.

He read on: The three of them were registered as a family on the census rolls of Salvation, under the name of Jensen, their arrival from Haven dated about a week ago – three days after the issues started with the Metroids. That had just been bad timing.

It wouldn't make the news any easier to break to Barney, though. The knowledge of Lauren's death alone would break his heart. Learning that she'd married another man in his absence, even after nine years, could kill him. Gordon closed his eyes.

"It never gets any easier, does it, Gordon?" Kleiner asked.

Gordon sighed. "No, it doesn't."

"I could tell him, if you like," Kleiner offered.

Gordon shook his head. "No. He's my best friend. This is on me." He paused. "Thanks for offering, though." He sighed. "I'll be back in a bit. Get the death mask ready for her." Kleiner nodded; the death mask was a computer-generated reconstruction of a corpse's face, used in situations like this, where the underlying bone structure was intact but the face otherwise deformed or destroyed. It had proved useful in offering closure to the families of those who had died violently under Combine rule, though of course the Combine had not allowed such mercies to humans.

Gordon left the morgue in search of Barney.

* * *

Samus glanced around at the rows and tiers of basins, each with a line of plants suspended with their roots in the nutrient solution within. Machinery kept the solution circulating, and every so often flying robots about the size of a man's head would whirr by the monitor the crops.

"See those?" Barney said, pointing to one of the monitor robots, "Those used to be Combine manhacks, used by the bad guys to find human fugitives. Alyx figured out a way to reprogram them after the Combine war, so now they work for us. Hell, I think she even used one for Dog's head during one of the rebuilds. Let me show you around."

He led her further into the greenhouse. Samus had to admit that she was (mildly) impressed at the machine-like efficiency here. Most things were automated, with certain crucial systems monitored by both machine and human gardeners – who appeared to be from the science team, the better to repair or debug things that broke or malfunctioned. She watched the monitor robots, the "manhacks", flying between the rows, occasionally moving in for a closer inspection or spraying one plant or another with various mixtures. Compared to what she saw in the infirmary, the greenhouses were at almost familiar tech levels – a bit rustic, but not archaic. She hadn't seen so much green in one place for a long time, not even in the subterranean jungles of Brinstar (whose plants had tended more towards purples and blues).

"Hey, check this out," Barney said, leading her to the next section, "Can you believe Dr. Magnussen never thought we'd get apple trees to grow in Yugoslavia? Have a taste." He picked a ripe red fruit from a nearby tree and tossed it to her. She caught it reflexively and took an experimental bite. She wasn't familiar with apples, but it was sweet and juicy and firm; she decided to give it a pass.

"Is Dr. Freeman responsible for all this as well?" she asked, wiping juice from her chin.

Barney laughed. "Nah. The man's got a brown thumb. The miracle workers who arranged this would be Dr. Arnold and Dr Majors – our botanical experts."

Samus saw a small metal sign in front of the apple trees. It read: "In Loving Memory of Elijah Vance: Brave Freedom Fighter, Intergalactic Diplomat, and Wise Father." Below this someone had written, "I hope you gave that Advisor the shits, Eli!"

"Alyx's dad," Barney said, noting her interest, "He was the one who first established peaceful relations with the Vortigaunts." He sighed. "Another casualty of the War." He snapped off a crisp, military salute at the memorial.

Ah. A war hero. Evidently, in addition to diplomacy he had gone toe to toe with the mysterious Combine, only to be killed by… no, to judge by the graffito, he was _eaten_ by a creature called an Advisor, whatever that was.

"Was he a soldier, like you?" Samus asked.

"He was a physicist at Black Mesa," Barney said, "He worked in the same department Gordon did. I don't think he was much older than Gordon himself when the whole thing went down… maybe in his thirties."

Black Mesa again. Everything seemed to trace back there. "Tell me more about Black Mesa," she said.

* * *

It took Gordon half an hour to locate Barney. In the cantina Sasha (from whom he also received one of her egg pastries) indicated that he had already eaten and was taking some breakfast to "his girlfriend, the alien" in her ship. At the ship, the two guards told him that Barney had taken Samus in the direction of the greenhouses.

Finally, at the hydroponics greenhouses, one of the gardeners pointed him in the direction of Barney and "that cute blond girl he had with him", over in the grove of fruit trees. Gordon nodded, thanked him, and headed in the indicated direction.

When he finally spotted them, he saw an expression on Barney's face that he hadn't seen in some time: contentment, untainted by bitter memories or vain hopes. Samus stood by his side while Barney appeared to be in storyteller mode, though the topic of the tale was unclear. Barney had friends already, to be sure – Gordon was one of them – and the other refugees from the Combine War were like family, but this was different. Gordon had seen that expression on Barney's face previously, but only when he'd been talking about Lauren.

Ah, crap. This was gonna suck worse than a black hole.

He took a deep breath and approached the pair. Samus spotted him first, but Barney soon noticed him and waved.

"Hey Gordo!" he called, "What's up? Looks like you got about as much sleep as I did last night."

Gordon greeted both of them with a nod. "Barney, I need to talk to you." Gordon glanced at Samus. "Privately, please."

Barney glanced at Samus, confused. "Uh, sure. Samus, go ahead and look around for a bit. We'll finish the tour later, okay?"

Samus could tell that something serious was about to transpire – Gordon appeared to be bracing for an impact. She nodded. "Sure. I'll catch up with you later." She watched as Gordon led Barney away by the elbow.

The two men left the greenhouse. Gordon took a deep breath; it was now or never.

"Barney, I found this recently." He fished in his pocket for the ring and pulled it out. "I think it's yours."

He handed it to Barney, who examined it curiously. It took only a few moments for him to spot the inscription, and his face lit up as he recognized it.

"Holy shit – that's the ring I gave Lauren – you found it! That must mean… Lauren's here? You found Lauren? Tell me you found Lauren!" He had grabbed Gordon by the shoulders, and by his expression he was hoping beyond hope that it was true.

Gordon nodded. "We found her, yes," he said gravely.

Barney's smile slipped at Gordon's tone. "What is it? What's wrong? Is she hurt? Where is she, the infirmary? Come on, I want to see her!" He started pulling Gordon towards the medical complex.

"Barney!" Gordon dug in his heels and pulled back. Barney looked at him, now confused. Gordon took a deep breath. "She's not in the infirmary."

"Then… where is she?"

"She's in the morgue. I'm so sorry, man."

Barney looked stunned for a few moments, before finally absorbing what Gordon had just told him. He went white, and started to shake. A hand slowly drifted up to rest on his brow, as though trying to shield him from the news. He shook his head, slowly as first, then more vigorously.

"Oh, no way! No way, Gordon! Are you trying to tell me she's dead? That's bullshit, man! That's bullshit! She can't be dead! She just… can't be!" Barney raked the fingers of both hands through his hair, giving him a wild, disheveled appearance. "No, no, no, no… god dammit, no…" His eyes squeezed shut, as though he was trying to deny the tragic reality. "No… no… it wasn't supposed to end like this… no way…" He looked at Gordon. "I want to see her."

Gordon grimaced. "A Metroid killed her. I don't think—"

"_I want to see my fiancée now!_" Barney exploded, grabbing Gordon by the front of his shirt and jerking him forward so the two were almost nose to nose. He swallowed hard, adding more quietly, "Please. I want to see her. I need to see her."

Gordon closed his eyes and nodded soberly. Barney released him, and Gordon led him inside.

Samus watched the discussion unfold from inside the greenhouse; though she couldn't make out the content to their discussion, her attention had been attracted by the anguish in Barney's voice. Clearly Gordon had bad news for him, but she couldn't hear the details. Well, Gordon and Barney, as opposite as they were, seemed to be close friends. It would make sense that Gordon would be the one to tell him such things, and would be likely to tell him plainly, rather than dancing around the harsh reality. She watched the two walk off.

A few moments later, she realized that she had effectively managed to ditch Barney completely by happenstance. Somehow, she felt less relieved than she thought she might.

* * *

Dr. Kleiner immediately noticed Barney's stricken expression when the two men entered the morgue. He glanced at Gordon, who nodded. Kleiner went to one of the printers and started sorting through the contents of the output tray, while Gordon led Barney to the gurney that held Lauren.

The corpse was still as it had been, its half-clenched fist visible above the top edge of the sheet. Gordon could almost imagine he could hear her death scream as the Metroid drained her.

"Here she is," Gordon said quietly. He waited as Barney approached the gurney.

Barney reached out with a trembling hand and touched the corpse's ash-blond hair.

"No…" Barney whispered, "This can't be… this can't be her… she… she said… I promised…" He stopped as Dr. Kleiner approached and wordlessly placed the printout on the gurney, the computer reconstruction of what her face would have looked like in life.

Even in her late forties, Lauren was a beautiful woman. Barney took up the printout, looking at it with an expression that Gordon would best describe as shattered. Barney traced the contours of the face on the printout, and Gordon could only watch as Barney's last barriers of denial crumbled.

"F5," he said finally, his voice hollow, "That's where we found the kid, right?"

"Yeah," Gordon said.

"Hers?"

Gordon and Kleiner exchanged a glance; they both knew the truth, but the infant needed a caregiver. And Barney loved kids – he'd helped raise Alyx and had become a surrogate uncle to her over the years. He would love the baby as though he'd sired her.

"In every way that matters, yes," Gordon said.

Barney knelt beside the gurney and clasped the twisted, bony hand. Dry flesh flaked away, but he didn't seem to mind; this was the woman that he had loved – loved with all his might. And he'd never given up looking for her, even when others would have given up hope.

"I n…need a minute alone," Barney said, his voice thick, "Just a minute alone w… with my fiancée… all right?"

Gordon nodded, giving Barney's shoulder a squeeze before leaving the morgue.

He had only gone fifteen feet down the hallway before he heard an inarticulate scream behind him, a hoarse, ragged sound of pure emotional anguish. He stopped, closing his eyes as it dissolved into sobs.

He wanted to go back and comfort Barney, but he wasn't sure how. He hesitated, turned back towards the morgue, but stopped after only a couple of steps. No. Barney would have to work through this. It had been ten years, and the wound was still raw – but now that he knew, even if it was bad news, he would be able to get past it. To move on. It would take time, like healing generally did. Barney was strong. He would make it.

Even so, Gordon still felt like shit. He clenched his fists and forced himself to turn away from the morgue, to give Barney the privacy he needed.

* * *

End Part 6.


End file.
